Jesse and Beca's Infinite Playlist
by BittyAB18
Summary: A series of Beca/Jesse one-shots and short stories inspired by songs. I will accept prompts/song suggestions! Enjoy! ***Previously named Stay, Stay, Stay. Title comes from a suggestion by penagain.***
1. Stay, Stay, Stay

**Stay, Stay, Stay**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not know anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Stay, Stay, Stay**_** by Taylor Swift**

**Author's Note: I love this song, and I also love this movie—especially Beca and Jesse. They are such a cute couple. This takes place during their junior year. I might turn this into a series of one-shots. Let me know what you think!**

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Beca stormed into the apartment she shares with Fat Amy and Stacie, ignoring the way that the door smacked against the wall. She didn't even check to see if the paint got chipped—she went to Barden for free—including free upperclassmen housing in the off-campus apartment complexes owned by the university—so her dad could spare a couple of bucks for a wall to be repainted. She was so angry that she wanted to break something—or, rather, _someone_.

Beca didn't know why he always insisted on fighting her battles for her; he had been doing it since before they began dating. She didn't _need _him telling her dad that moving to LA is her dream and that college is just a waste of time in her opinion. She didn't _need_ him to tell Amy and the other girls that making constant references to her (their) sex life (or lack thereof, at times).She didn't _need_ him to tell that guy at the frat party that she had a boyfriend. She certainly didn't _need _him to throw a goddamn flash mob in the quad for her birthday in November of last year—that was downright embarrassing. (Although, looking back, she should have realized that something was up when _all_ of the Bellas, Treblemakers, B-Harmonics, and graduated alum [aka Bumper—really?—Donald, Chloe, Aubrey, et cetera] were strolling around the quad when he invited her on a picnic in the quad when it was two degrees out.)

The one time that she actually expected him to step up and be meddling ass that he usually is, he decided to _not_ say a goddamn word, because he thought it would be funny and get him laid. She sure as hell didn't _need_ or _want_ to see her goddamn boyfriend practically being used as a pole by one of new freshman that _she_ had personally selected to be a part of the Bellas this year. He _didn't_ push that skanky bitch off of him when she tried to have sex with him in the middle of their friends. The asshole even had the nerve to fucking _smirk_ when he saw her practically steaming from the ears and her face was surely as red as an apple.

Beca was relieved to find that neither Stacie or Amy were back from the Aca-Initiation party yet, with whatever guy they had picked up for the night to make the beast with two backs. She tore her gloves, scarf, and hat off and threw them on the floor. She then proceeded to tear off her coat, tossing that at the floor, too. Looking around, Beca spotted an empty printer-paper box by the recycling that she stolen from her dad's office; she, Amy, and Stacie had divided the reams of paper between them, so they were set for the entire school year. She began gathering up picture frames, hats, socks, books, CDs, movie cases—everything that Jesse had given her or left behind at the apartment.

"Becs, what the hell are you doing?" She heard his voice from the doorway. She ignored him, continuing to walk around the apartment, gathering up all of his crap and returning to the living room to throw it into the box. "Is that my toothbrush?" He had bought a spare one to leave at her place, and he had bought her one (a pink one that made him laugh when he saw the look on her face—she hated pink with a passion) to leave at his. He sounded hurt, and a small part of her almost cracked, but then she remembered Tiffany's body writhing against his and how he rolled his hips into the bottle-blonde's ass and the grin on his face when he saw her standing off to the side of the crowd.

"Yes." She spat out, glaring at him.

"Don't you think you are overreacting the tiniest bit?" He asked as he walked into the room and dropped onto the couch, watching her pack everything relating to him into an empty box. Beca balled her fists, trying her hardest to keep from marching over to him and punching him in the face like she did to that middle-aged guy at their first competition in their respective a cappella groups.

"You are walking a fine line, Swanson. If you want to keep your balls, I suggest you stop talking. You know that I can't always control my anger." She said in a deep voice, trying to contain herself to the best of her ability, as she surveyed the apartment for any remaining traces of him.

"Bec, I am sorry that you got jealous over Tiffany dancing with me." He smirked at her again. He always did find her anger amusing. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Jealous!?" She screamed. She was so angry that she decided to throw something at him, which happened to be her phone…that she dug out of the back pocket of her jeans…that smacked him squarely in the middle of the forehead.

"Jesus, Beca!" Jesse's hands flew to his forehead, rubbing at the growing red mark from where her phone hit him.

"I hope that it didn't break, or else you will have to buy me a new one for breaking it with you idiot head." She leaned down and grabbed a balled up pair of socks of his that she stole from his laundry basket one of the times she spent the night in his room at the Treble house. She threw that at him, smiling when it bounced off the top of his head. She started digging more and more stuff out of the box—shoes, a stuff bunny that he bought her when they went to an amusement park by the beach, one of his textbooks from when they were doing homework before the auditions.

"Beca!" The soft items, such as the socks and the stuffed bunny aren't that bad, but when she started pelting him with shoes, Jesse dove over the back of the sofa to hide from her. He narrowly missed getting hit with his own textbook. "What the hell!?"

"I went to pee for five fucking minutes, and you let a bleach-blonde tramp practically have sex with you in the middle of our friends! How is that okay, Jesse? I wouldn't care if you were actually dancing, but no, you let her grind against you like she was dog in fucking heat! A good boyfriend would have pushed her away. A good boyfriend would have told her that he was dating her new group leader. A good boyfriend would have told her that you were committed to the said Bella leader. Did you do any of that? No! You let that skank dry-hump you—hell, you returned the fucking favor—and then had the fucking nerve to smirk at me when I got back to the party, as if it was funny to see that I was hurt and pissed off."

"Are you done throwing things?" Jesse asked, carefully raising his head over the back of the couch, waving a tissue that he had grabbed from the tissue box on the end table. Beca just crossed her arms and glared at him. "I honestly assumed that you would just get jealous and then stake your claim by pushing in between us and make out with me in front of her. I didn't expect you to storm off like this. I certainly didn't expect you to get this angry."

"Well, you know what they say about assume things—it makes an _ass_ out of you _and_ your girlfriend dumps your ass!"

"Actually, the saying is making an ass out of you and me…"

"Well, I think I like my version better." She pointed to the box at her feet, which only has a few of things left in it. "Grab your shit and get out."

"Beca, you can't be serious. You can't break up with me because a girl danced with me at a party?"

"Um, I think I _can_ and I _am_. Get out." She turned her back on him and stormed toward her room. She slammed the door behind her and locked it (a lock she had to install after she woke up to Amy breaking into her room and recording her and Jesse sleeping one night the year before). She collapsed against the door and slid down it, burying her face in her hands, finally letting the tears spill down her cheeks.

"I am not leaving, Becs!" Jesse said, pounding on the door. "I am most definitely not letting you break up with me." Beca heard his body slide down the door, just as she had. "Please open the door?" She refused to answer him and continued to silently cry, her heart breaking into a million pieces. She didn't know if she was relieved or even more pissed off when he decided that they weren't broken up.

Eventually, Beca stood up and pulled off her clothes and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She groaned when she realized that she missed one of his shirts in her stuff—probably one that she had stolen from him one night after they had sex. She buried her face into it for a moment, smelling the faint scent of him before she pulled the shirt off and stormed over to the door, unlocking and pulling it open. Jesse had moved to the couch, setting up a makeshift bed with the throw blankets that the girls had draped over the couch and arm chairs. His eyebrows rose when he saw her standing in the doorway of her room, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a bra with his shirt bunched up in her hands. She threw the shirt out of the room before turning on her heel and slamming the door again, switching the lock into place. "GO AWAY!" She shouted through the door as she grabbed one of her own t-shirts from her dresser and collapsed into her bed.

Beca sat in her bed, clutching her pillow to her chest. It smelled faintly like his cologne, but it wasn't enough. She sat there for about an hour before she snuck over to the door and carefully unlocked it. She had to pee and hated going to bed without brushing her teeth and washing her face. Her heart thudded in her chest as she slowly opened the door to her room. The living room was dark and quiet. Beca could see him stretched out on the couch with one blanket bunched under his head as a makeshift pillow and another draped over his body. His jeans lay on the floor beside him. She quickly made her way to the bathroom, doing what she needed to do in there as quietly as she could, before making her way back down the hall to her room that bordered the living room.

Beca spotted her phone lying on the end table beside the couch. She crept over to it, grabbing it as carefully as she could without making a noise. She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of his face. He was so beautiful, and it took her breath away to think about how much she loved him. She hated that they were fighting. She hated that he hurt her. She hated that she actually loved another person with such so much ferocity.

Beca itched to touch him, but she was mad and hurt, and he needed to know that. It was too easy to just let what happened earlier go, but she couldn't. Taking a deep breath, she carefully crept back toward her room. She spotted his cologne in the box of his things on her way there, pausing for a moment to glance over her shoulder at him. Beca quickly bent to grabbed it and crept into her room, spraying her pillow lightly with it. She then made her way back to the living room and returned the cologne to the box before slipping back into her room and locking the door behind her.

It was nearly midnight, but she didn't care, because she didn't have classes on Fridays. Jesse, on the other hand, had class at eight. Beca always hated when they spent the night together on Thursdays, because she would always get up with him at seven and make him breakfast while he showered and got ready for the day the next morning. Then, she would slip back into bed—hers or his, it didn't matter—and fall back to sleep until he got back from his two classes and climb into bed with her at about ten-fifteen in the morning. He would then proceed to wake her up in the most enjoyable ways before finally pulling her from bed and making her a massive lunch to replenish her energy. Beca's cheeks burned as she thought about all the good things about their relationship. Some of them were so stupid and small, but they were what made her happy.

For example, Jesse was the biggest nerd in the world. After they started dating, she learned that he wore reading glasses. The first time she saw him put them on, she laughed so hard that she nearly peed her pants. When she glanced at his face, she saw how broken-hearted he looked when she laughed at him that she immediately stopped laughing and pulled him into a heated kiss. She told him that she had always been secretly turned on by nerds and showed him just how much she liked his glasses by slipping her hand into his jeans. Beca couldn't keep her eyes off his face whenever they would watch movies, because he would mouth the words along with the movie, which was completely ridiculous and adorable in her opinion. Jesse would purposely leave the toilet seat up or make stupid faces at her when she would be on stage with the Bellas, hoping that she would mess up and get pissed at him, which would then make him laugh—his laugh really was totally perfect. He would make totally cheesy jokes that she would pretend weren't funny at first, and then he would wag his eyebrows at her or wink suggestively, and she wouldn't be able to hold back the laughter. When she would go to the grocery store for food for the apartment, he would insist on carrying all of the bags into the house and not let her carry a single one—apparently, it was her designated job to put them away while he would bring them in.

Jesse was so different from her old high school boyfriends. They were jerks—takers. They always expected her to pay for things for them, never bought her presents or flowers for her birthday or holidays (unlike Jesse who would bring her a daisy on Tuesday just because it was a Tuesday and the flower made him think of her); they always expected her to be concerned with their whole world, but never took the time to actually listen to her thoughts, her dreams, her fears—they were a bunch of self-centered assholes. Jesse wanted to hear about her day. He wanted to hear all about her plans to go to LA when she graduated to try to become a producer. He wanted to hear about how she is afraid of clowns after she was flipping through the TV one time when she was little and saw one of the scenes from _It_ where the clown was killing someone. He wanted to hear about how she is scared that her parents divorced ruined the idea of true love and marriage for her. He wanted to hear all about her life. Plus, she found herself actually enjoying hearing about his thoughts, his fears, and his hopes for the future, unlike with her ex-boyfriends, who she essentially hated to be around. Beca found herself just _loving_ being around Jesse and hanging out, doing nothing but homework or watching movies or making fun of the people on _Toddlers and Tiaras _or _The Jersey Shore_ or listening to music.

Jesse was so sweet when she would go to his place or when he would come to her place after a Bella rehearsal (or anything stressful really, such as exams or dinners with her father and step-monster, Sheila). He wouldn't expect anything from her. He would put jazz music (her secret obsession) on and let her stretch out on the couch or on the bed with her feet in his lap, massaging them as she complained about something Amy or Stacie or her father did.

The sex was great, too. Sex with her ex-boyfriends had always been kind of boring, and she always found herself losing interest in being with them sexually, which is when she knew it was time to break things off. With Jesse, though, things only seemed to get better—hotter. Sure, they didn't jump each other's bones every night like they did when they first began having sex, but it was so much better now than it was when they first started dating. Beca didn't know if that made sense, but it was true. He knew exactly what to do to make her feel the most amazing things, and he took his time with it, so it felt like a religious experience each and every time they were together.

Beca sighed, because she thought that their relationship was solid—far from perfect, but perfect for them. But, he obviously thought that there was something lacking in their relationship if he felt the need to grind with some girl just so she would make out with him in the middle of their friends. Did she now show him enough that she wanted him and only him? Did she not show him that he is the guy that she wakes up each day thinking about? Because, she thought that she did a pretty good job of that. Sure, she wasn't like other girls who would constantly hold their boyfriends' hands or drape themselves all over them whenever they were in public. She wasn't like other girls who would constantly tell their boyfriend that they love them or something like that—okay, she never really said those words to him, but she was sure that he _knew_ she felt it. She was never one of those girls who would constantly say "my boyfriend does this or says that." Beca had thought that even though she wasn't like that with him, she was sure that he liked that she didn't do some of the other annoying things that those clinging girls would do—like try to trick him by asking if she looks fat in her jeans or if he thinks that another girl is pretty.

Beca finally fell asleep at some point, and when she woke up, it was about ten-thirty. He didn't come back and try to climb into bed with her. Then, she remembered that her door was locked, so she carefully stood up and walked toward her bedroom door. She unlocked it and opened it, expecting to see him in the living room, waiting for her. He wasn't there. The blankets he had used were folded neatly on the couch, and all of his stuff had been cleaned up and the box was gone. Crap…did this mean that he actually listened to her and thought that they had broken up. Beca felt the tears burn in her eyes. She was mad last night and told him to leave and that she wanted to end things, but she didn't mean it. She didn't want things to be over. She wanted him to walk through that door and to hug her and hold her and to make everything right between them again.

She stomped over to the kitchenette off the side of the living room and grabbed the box of cereal from one cabinet before grabbing a cleaned bowl and spoon from the drying wrack—probably Jesse's from when he woke up this morning and got ready for class. She poured milk over the cereal and began to eat, but it was flavorless. She wanted Jesse and his tasty mini-pizzas on soft tortilla shells or his grilled cheese sandwiches or his quesadillas or his roast beef sandwiches on rye bread with pickles. She wanted him. When she was finished eating the cereal—without even tasting it—she made her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash the sleep from her face. She climbed into the shower, hoping that the warm water running over her head and body would clear her mind. When Beca finished her shower, she climbed out and grabbed her towel, groaning when she felt that it was slightly damp—he had used it that morning, and he knew that she hated that. There were so many germs that could be passed from using the same towel. She dried off quickly, wrapping the towel around her body and made her way to her room, throwing the towel in the hamper. She quickly pulled on her underwear and a bra, a pair of yoga pants, and a tank top, sliding her feet into her fuzzy green slippers that Jesse had bought her when he found out that she didn't own a pair of slippers. Beca brushed her hair and put it into a messy, wet bun on top of her head. She grabbed her cell phone from her bedside table. She hit two on her speed dial (yes, he was the first person on her speed dial, number one being taken by her voicemail—programmed that way by Apple, not by her choice) and proceeded to yank her drawers open to grab the clothes she was going to wear for the day.

"Hello?" He answered flippantly, as if he didn't care about the fact that they had a major fight the night before and almost broke up—or, they might of actually broken up, after all. "What's up, Beca? I was just on my way to grab lunch with the guys. Do you think we could maybe talk later or something?" She dropped onto her bed and stared at her toenails.

"You used my towel. I hate it when you do that." She muttered, running a hand through her wet hair. "And, you left barely any of my milk in the fridge. And, you didn't put the dishes away."

"Sorry about that…I woke up a little late, so I was kind of rushing, and the towel I usually use was in your room, so it was either use your towel or Amy's or Stacie's, so I used yours. Sorry I didn't clean up after myself." She frowned, hearing how _bored_ he sounded, like he didn't care at all. Okay, so maybe this was stupid, but she didn't know what to say to him to fix this. "If that is all, I am just gonna go. You know, lunch and all? I am starving…"

"You took your stuff…" Beca whispered.

"Well, if I remember correctly, _you told me to_." Jesse responded.

"I obviously didn't mean it, Jesse! God!" She yelled into the phone, wrapping her arm around herself.

"How am I supposed to know that, Beca? You said that you wanted to break up! You said that you wanted me to take my stuff and to leave. How can you expect me to know that you didn't want me to ignore you? You complain all of the time about how I don't listen to you when you tell me to stop doing something. So, I listened."

"Jesse, you know that I push people—especially you—away when I am upset."

"Well, you seemed pretty serious about breaking up, considering you were _throwing_ my stuff _at_ _me_ last night." Beca chewed on her bottom lip.

"We should talk about what happened last night," she whispered after a few moments of silence. "I mean…I read in one of Stacie's magazines that we shouldn't leave a fight unresolved, and even if we break up, then we wouldn't always be left with this anger and resentment towards each other…" She was rambling.

"Fine." He hung up the phone. Beca frowned, staring at the screen before standing up to grab a long-sleeved shirt from one of her drawers to pull over her head. She pulled her hair out of its bun and proceeded to blow it dry. When her hair was dry, she grabbed her phone and moved into the living room and dropped onto the couch. She sat there for about five minutes before she stood up and marched over to the kitchen to get a glass of ice water. She was restless. She texted Amy and Stacie to see where they were; both girls responded that they had hit up a frat party the night before and hooked up with some brothers before coming home long enough to get changed for classes this morning at about nine-thirty. Apparently, they were stopping by the Treble house that afternoon to work on a project with Benji, since they were in his anthropology class.

Another ten minutes had passed, and Jesse still wasn't there. Beca groaned, chugging the rest of her water out of needing something to do. Suddenly, the door flew open, making her jump. She almost dropped the empty glass into the sink. "Okay, let's talk." She carefully put the glass down in the sink and turned toward the door. She couldn't help the laugh that erupted from her when she took in the sight of Jesse in a football helmet. She immediately wiped the smile from her face though, because she was mad. She didn't want to be amused by his antics.

"What the hell are you wearing on your head?" Beca asked, shaking her head. Jesse grinned, knocking on the side of helmet.

"I am wearing a helmet to protect myself from any flying objects. Although, I would appreciate it if you put your phone down and stood in the middle of the room. We should probably make sure that nothing is within reach." She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Stop being an asshole." He shrugged.

"So, are you just going to insult me? Because if that is all we are going to do here, I am gonna go." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the open doorway. Beca rolled her eyes at him and walked toward the couch, sitting down. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She didn't say anything, but she felt the tears come then. This fight was way worse than any fight they had ever had. Usually when Jesse would piss her off, Beca would snap at him, he would do something cute (like wearing a football helmet), and she would forgive him. This time, she was just so sad and angry and hurt—she couldn't get past it. She heard the door shut, and for a second, she thought that maybe he had left, but she heard the lock switch into place. She pressed her face into her knees, trying to hide the fact that she was crying. She hated crying in front of him. "Becs? Are you crying?" She shook her head, looking away from him when he sat down beside her on the couch. "Yes, you are." He shifted, reaching out toward her. Before he touched her though, he dropped his hand. "I have to know…were you serious when you said that we might break up on the phone?"

"Do you want to break up?" She whispered, wiping at her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

"Hell, no!" Jesse spat. "Are you kidding? You might be legitimately crazy, but you are you." She frowned, turning to him in confusion.

"What?"

"I am serious. You totally snapped last night. I never would have thought that you would have gotten so jealous that you would act like you did last night. I mean you were calling that girl horrendous names, and you screamed at me like a banshee. Oh, and I almost forgot! You _threw_ things at me." He was wide-eyed, and she laughed, because he was still wearing that damn football helmet.

"Would you take that thing off?" She asked him, rolling her eyes. "If I was so crazy last night, then why are you staying with me?" Jessed pulled the helmet off of his head, setting it down on the coffee table in front of them.

"Because I am in love with you, idiot." It was the first time he said it. She knew that he loved her, but he never voiced it—like she didn't. But, she didn't know if he _knew_ that she loved him.

"I am sorry that I threw things at you." Beca said after a few minutes. She saw his face drop a little when she didn't say it back. She was scared to say it. She didn't know what was happening now—she wasn't going to say it if they were breaking up. But, he did say that he didn't want to break up with her, and he said that he loved her. So, unless she decided they were done, they were probably not going to break up. "I don't want to break up either." She said after a moment. She immediately felt better telling him that.

Jesse gave her a sad smile. "I am relieved to hear that. I am not going to lie, but it felt like my heart was stopping yesterday when you said that you were dumping me." Beca shook her head.

"God! I don't know why you want me! I suck at this stuff. I suck at relationships. I am a complete bitch to you all of the time. I hardly ever say nice things. Hell, I call you a nerd to your face repeatedly. I am just a negative mess, and you keep coming back. What the hell is wrong with you?!" She stood up and moved away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. "I am awful, but you're amazing. You are so warm and kind and perfect, and seeing you with Tiffany yesterday practically killed me, because for what seems like the thousandth time, you deserve better." She buried her face into her hands.

"What the hell are you talking about, Becs? You are the most amazing person that I have ever met. Sure, you are a bit rough around the edges and you have an acid tongue, but I like that about you. Correction, I _love_ that about you. I like that you keep me on my toes and call me a nerd when I am acting like it. I like that you look at the world so realistically, because I constantly have my head in the clouds. I need you to keep me grounded. I like that you have all these walls to protect yourself from other people, because it means that you feel safe and comfortable and good with me when you let them down. It means that you care about me, because you are willing to share the parts of you that you keep separate from the rest of the world. And, I am not as great as you make me out to be. I actively go out of my way to piss you off, because you are adorable when you are angry. As for Tiffany, there isn't anything appealing about that. Why would I want her? She isn't all that pretty and I sure as hell don't want to give someone as amazing and beautiful as you for someone who is okay." During his speech, he had walked up behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. "I have fun with you, and I am going to stick around until you get sick of me." Beca took a step back to rest against his back. Jesse wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her completely against me.

"I like hanging out with you." She whispered, turning in his arms. She rested her hands on his shoulders and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. "You scare me, Jesse." She whispered against his neck. He chuckled, running a hand through her hair.

"You scare me, too, Becs. I mean, I thought I got used to that ear spike, but sometimes I feel like letting a girlish scream out when I come across you at night waiting outside of buildings." She smacked his chest and pulled back to pout at him. He winked, leaning down to press a light kiss to her pouting lips. "I am kidding. Why are you scared of me, Beca? I couldn't hurt a fly. You have bigger muscles than I do." He insisted.

"Well, that is true. I mean, I did beat up a middle-aged man for you." Jesse's head fell back as he laughed.

"Did I ever tell you you're my hero? You're everything I wish I could be!" He sang to her, earning another eye roll and a light punch to the stomach. "But, seriously, you have me concerned and curious. What is about me that scares you?" Beca looked down at how she was bunching his shirt in her hands, wrapping the fabric around her fingers.

"I am scared of how much I care about you. When I saw you with Tiffany and I thought about how you could drop me in a second for someone better, it felt like there was a piece of me being torn away from me. It scares the shit of me, because what if you wake up one day and not want to be with me anymore. You could have anyone, and you would be this amazing boyfriend to them. No one else is going to be able to love me when I get pissed off at the world or try to push them away. No one else is going to stick around when things get hard, like you do. It…I…ugh! I just…I could see myself being with you for the rest of my life, and that scares me." She groaned, trying to pull away from him out of embarrassment, but Jesse locked his arms around her.

"Becs…" He held her in place with his one arm and used his other hand to carefully lift her chin in order to look into her eyes. He leaned his forehead against hers, and her eyelids fluttered shut as she rubbed her nose against his. He didn't close the distance between them, though, and he wouldn't let her when she tried. "Please…please…" He whispered, and her eyes flew open, locking instantly with his.

Beca knew what he wanted her to do. She licked her bottom lip, studying him. "I love you, Jesse." She whispered, and a grin erupted on his face. He slid his hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head.

"I love you so much, Beca, and believe me when I tell you that I can see forever with you, too. Do you understand me? You are my whole world, and I love you. I don't want anyone else, and I intend on spending my life with you, okay?" She nodded her head, smiling softly at him.

"Good, okay, great, but can you kiss me now?" She asked, her eyes settling on his lips. Jesse laughed, pulling her head toward him and pressing his lips hard against her. The kiss was passionate, intense, and fierce—their teeth clashed, and Beca felt like she was melting into him. Soon, his tongue was battling hers, and she finally felt at peace for the first time in so long. Just telling him that she loved him and hearing him say those words seemed to evaporate all of her insecurities. In the back of her mind, she knew that he could wise up and leave her one day, but she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that Jesse stayed with her. When air became a problem, Beca broke the kiss, pressing her face into his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath.

"So, is it okay for me to show you just _how much_ I love you?" Jesse asked, kissing the top of her head.

"God, yes! This was the worst Friday of my life. I didn't get to wake up next to you, to make breakfast and to kiss you goodbye before you left for class. I didn't get to slip back into bed and have you wake me up in the most delicious ways after you got done with classes. I didn't get to go to bed in your arms last night. It sucked." She pouted, pulling herself from his arms and walking backwards toward her bedroom door. Beca pulled both of her shirts over her head, raising an eyebrow at him. "Get your ass in here and start making it up to me," she told him as she turned on her heel and walked into her room.

"Jesus," Jesse muttered, practically running into the room after her before slamming the door and locking it quickly. He caught her by the hips and threw her into the bed, tearing his shirt off before climbing in with her. "I fully intend on making it up to you all afternoon, evening, night, morning, and for the rest of my life. How does that sound to you?"

"Perfect." Beca said, wrapping her arms around Jesse's neck and pulling him against her to press a kiss against his lips. "Just perfect." He broke the kiss, pulling away to look at her.

"Why does your bed smell so intensely of my cologne?" She bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile; sitting up, she pressed her lips to his as she slid her hand to his belt-buckle.

"Do you really need to know that now?" Beca said against his lips. Jesse shook his head and focused on the issue at hand, ridding her of her clothing and worshiping her body. She smiled to herself, so happy that she and Jesse decided to stay together. He was her home.


	2. I Hope You Find It (Part 1 of 2)

**I Hope You Find It**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Part 1 of 2**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**I Hope You Find It**_** by Miley Cyrus**

**Author's Note: I am glad that you all enjoyed the first one-shot so much! This one is a sad one. This one is set right after Beca tries to go talk to Jesse and then goes to talk to her dad. Everything up to this point is in line with the movie, but everything that follows is AU. When I finished this one, I realized that the ending was open enough for a sequel. So, I hope you enjoy the two of them. **

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Beca takes one final look around the room that she had spent the last eight months in. Spring break had just ended and April was just beginning, bringing warm weather and the promise of new opportunities in the spring and summer. When she went to his house a few days ago and talked about how much she had changed—maybe even grown—and how much she learned about herself and others, her dad finally got it. She talked about how much she hated being at Barden, how college wasn't her and the only reason she was sticking it out was because he was insisting on it. He finally understood that the only thing that was really keeping her head above water was the Bellas, and she had royally screwed everything up with them (never mind the fact that Aubrey had serious control issues). She had purposely left out Jesse when she was talking to her dad (because he had given up on her) when she went to speak with him—Jesse was no longer an important aspect of Barden that kept her sane. So, her dad finally agreed. He was letting her drop out of school. He was letting her move to LA. More than that, he was actually helping her.

Dr. Mitchell had friends everywhere. Apparently, a retired colleague of his had a son, Elijah, who majored in music in college and had moved to LA following his graduation. Elijah was working for a recording company, and he had been able to get Beca a job as an assistant—aka a gopher that did everything she currently did at the radio station for Luke. As for the apartment, a former student of Dr. Mitchell's, who kept in touch regularly with him, was spending a year traveling the world for inspiration for his next novel before settling back down in LA, which meant he needed someone to sublet his one-bedroom condo in the city. Sure, it was about forty-five minutes from her new job—and she knew that LA traffic was considered unpredictable at best—but she had a job and an apartment in less than four days, thanks to her dad. It was the nicest and best thing that he had done for her ever since he had walked out her and her mom when Beca was fifteen to take the job at Barden.

Beca grabbed the laptop bag that housed her laptop and other necessary equipment for making mixes from her bed and nodded her head. She was ready to go. All of her records and bigger items had been packed up and loaded onto a moving truck to be shipped across the country; these items were set to arrive at her new apartment in about three days. Beca's large suitcase that housed a few outfits, her makeup, and toiletries was already in her dad's car outside of the residence hall; her dad and Shelia were going to drive her to the airport. Her plane left in about three and a half hours, but it was a pretty long drive from Barden to the airport. She closed her door for the final time and went down to the office to return her room key to the residence hall office. When she was finally free, she marched out of the building into cool, early spring air. It was about nine in the morning, and she was in desperate need of a coffee. "How about we grab some Starbucks before we go?" She asked her dad as she climbed into the backseat of her car.

"Sure," he said as he pulled away from Baker Hall and drove towards the Starbucks that was just off-campus. Beca took his and Sheila's drink orders and quickly made her way into the coffeehouse. She stood in line, wringing her hands as she thought about how she was going to let the Bellas down. She didn't think that any of them cared about her anymore, but Chloe had texted her the night before saying that the second-place finalists were thrown out of the competition for some reason, and the Bellas were in. She said that there was a Bella practice the following afternoon at three. At three, Beca would be settling into her new place and probably starting a new mix so that she could have plenty of examples of her work ready for her new employers a few days from now. She still didn't text her back. She needed to think about what she would say.

"Beca, hey!" She glanced up and saw that Fat Amy had entered the coffeehouse. Beca smiled hesitantly at the blonde before turning back to the counter to make her order and stood the side, while Amy did the same. "Are you excited for rehearsal this afternoon? Can you believe that we actually get to go the Finals?" Amy asked as she perused the muffin display. Beca bit her lip, hesitating.

"I am not going." She said after a moment. Amy's jaw dropped open, and the blonde's gaze fell on Beca, making her uncomfortable.

"What do you mean you aren't going to be there? We need you!" She screeched. Beca winced at the distraught and slightly pissed off look on the blonde's face.

"I don't belong in the Bellas, Amy. I don't belong in Barden—or any college for that matter." She paused, taking the drinks from the guy behind the counter and handing him a twenty. "I dropped out of Barden two days ago. I just finished packing up the last of my stuff from my room. I am moving to LA."

"Holy shit!" Amy gasped. She stared at Beca for a moment. "This sucks! We need you to win the Finals."

"You guys don't need me. You all are so talented, and you are going to do amazingly. Good luck at the Finals." Beca walked away then. She quickly climbed into her dad's car and prepared herself for her new life in LA.

Beca had made it through security rather successfully—it had only taken about forty-five minutes, which wasn't too bad at all. When she had gotten her phone back from the x-ray scan, she saw that she had a missed call, but she wanted to get to her terminal before she even looked at it, so she just shoved the phone into her pocket and made her way past the food kiosks to her terminal. She sat down, placing her laptop on her lap. Pulling her headphones on so that one of her ears was left exposed while she waited for her flight to be called, she opened her laptop and began working on her mix. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, seeing that it was a text from her dad asking her to call when she got through security and before she got on the plane. She quickly called him and assured him that she was fine. Just then, her flight was called. She packed her stuff up and got in line behind the rest of the passengers and waited to load the plane.

When Beca got settled in her seat—an aisle seat, thank God!—she remembered that she had gotten a call while going through airport security. She checked her call log and saw that the call was from Jesse. Her heart immediately started pounding. After so many unanswered texts and calls, he was finally responding. She thought back on the last conversation they had less than a week ago. He asked her why she was always pushing people away. When she responded that she didn't know, he told her that she better figure it out and that he was done with her and whatever it was that they had together. He then shut the door in her face. It was one of the worst moments of her life—she knew that she had hurt him, and it wasn't until he had shut the door in her face did she realize that he wanted so much more than friendship with her. He wanted the epic love story that was depicted in all the movies that he had forced her to watch over the last few months. She had stood for a moment, outside of his door, so thrown by her realization that she overheard him ask Benji a question—a question that haunted her to this very moment: "What does she expect? Am I just supposed to hang around and wait forever for her? I can't do that." She didn't know what she expected, but she certainly didn't want to hurt him anymore. She also didn't want to hurt, which is why she had built up so many walls around her heart—those walls were just too hard to break down.

Beca took a shuddering breath as she pressed her phone to her ear to listen to the message that he left for her. The moment she heard his voice, the tears began to flow down her cheeks, and she didn't even realize it. She couldn't help it, though, because what he had to say made her wonder if she was making a mistake—if she was really just running away from all of her problems by moving to LA.

"Hey, Beca." Jesse said, pausing; Beca heard him sigh before continuing. "I just thought I would try to call you before you got too far out of town, but I guess you are in security or already on the plane or something, so I just hope you get this message. Um, I honestly would hate it if you left without hearing this, so that is why I am calling. I saw Fat Amy not too long ago, and she told me that you had dropped out and were moving to LA. I just wanted to say congrats to you; I know that had been your goal all along to move there and that you felt stifled at Barden, so it's great that you are getting the chance to finally live out your dream." He coughed, pausing. He was silent for about a minute before he began again.

"I know that when you and I last spoke, I said that I was giving up on this—whatever it is that we had going on, but that was just because I was hurt; after you freaked out at the competition, I realized that you didn't—don't—see me the way that I see you. I realized that you don't want anything more than friendship, and I just…I wasn't sure that I could do that, you know? When Amy told me that you were leaving, I couldn't help but feel partly responsible. Like, if I hadn't of said what I said to you, then maybe you would have stuck around? I mean, I didn't mean what I said, Beca—I don't want to give up on you and give up on…us—whatever kind of us you feel comfortable with, I am down for. I just…I care about you a lot. I am so sorry that I reacted the way that I did, but I was hurt and I wish I could take it back.

"I just…I hope that you find whatever you are looking for out in LA. I hope that it is everything you dreamed life could be…should be…and beyond that. I hope that LA makes you happy, and no matter where you go in life and no matter what you do, I wish you the best and hope that you have a great and fulfilled life. I really mean it, and nothing is going to change that belief for me. You are an amazing person, and you are exceptionally talented and I know that I am going to see your name in a CD jacket one day as a producer.

"Anyways, I just called to tell you all that. I really…I couldn't…I didn't want you to leave without hearing my piece and knowing how I felt. I really care about you Beca, and I want you to know that you can call me anytime—day or night. I would love if I could be your friend, so please don't hesitate to keep in touch. I also hope that maybe we could see each other again one day. So, yeah, um…yeah, I really do hope that you find whatever it is that you are looking for. I also hope that you will miss us here—you know, like Lilly and Amy and Chloe and Benji…and me—because we are going to miss you, Beca. Right, so…um…hopefully we can talk again soon. Bye, Beca. Good luck."

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are preparing for takeoff. Please fasten your safety belts and turn off all electronics at this time." The flight attendant said as she walked up and down the aisles of the Beca's portion of the plane, tapping on people's shoulders to remind them of turning off their electronics. "Now, if you would all look to me at the front, I will begin by showing you are safety procedures in the event of an emergency…"

Beca zoned out while the flight attendant discussed the emergency procedures if the plane were ever to crash. She thought about what Jesse had said during his phone call. He basically said he was sorry for pushing her away. He said that he wanted to be involved in her life, even if they were just friends. She felt like her entire world was shattered. She thought that he didn't want her, and it was the top reason that she was running away from Barden. If she had known that he still cared about her, she would have…no, she still would have run, because she had serious commitment issues. Her dad leaving had left her broken, and she couldn't be in relationships for longer than five minutes. If it hadn't been for that goddamn oath, Beca probably would have slept with Jesse a few times and pursued nothing more than the occasional hookup. She wasn't a relationship-girl. She hooked up with guys that she found attractive. She probably would have slept with Luke, too, but after she realized that he never really was interested in her music until Jesse wouldn't shut up about it, Beca kind of lost interest in him. Sure, Luke was nice to look at, but he obviously didn't care about her in any capacity. Beca liked Jesse because she was interested in her music and told her cheesy "fun" facts that are in fact stupid or gross or just plain weird; she liked that he insisted on educating her on the beauty of movies and how he constantly talked about what songs he would have used in a movie over the songs that were chosen. She liked how he sometimes broke out into song when walking down the street and a car drove by or when he overheard someone's ringtone—even the instrumental ones. Beca realized just how much she liked Jesse.

This realization left her breathless. She knew that she had screwed up royally, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She wiped at the tears that slipped from her eyes discreetly. She was stuck on this plane. She was stuck with this job now. She was stuck with this condo in LA. She had told her dad that this is what would make her happiest. He had gone out of his way to find her a job and a place—he had helped her just like he had promised a month into school when she skipped her philosophy class. The flight attendant stopped beside her and bent down to whisper to her. "Are you okay, Miss?" The flight attendant was obviously concerned that Beca was going to start screaming about the plane going down or something. She was probably getting ready to call the plane's undercover air marshal to take Beca down at a moment's notice.

"My…" Beca didn't know what to call Jesse. "I am fine…just got an upsetting phone call." She wiped her cheeks and tried to calm herself down. "May I get some water, please?" She asked the flight attendant.

"Sure, Miss." The flight attendant stood and walked toward the middle of the plane that divided coach and business class from first-class. She returned a few moments later and presented Beca with a bottle of water and a small, plastic cup filled with ice. "Here you are."

"Thank you." Beca opened the bottle and poured it into the cup with shaking hands. She sipped the ice water and tried to calm down. When she was finished with the class, she leaned back in her seat and shut her eyes, willing herself to calm down.

Beca hated herself for always running away from things. She just wished that she was normal for once, and for the first time ever, she was wondering if LA and this job and this life that she had always thought that she wanted _were_ in fact what she wanted and needed after all. Taking a few deep breaths, she finally calmed herself down. The plane was steadily lifting into the sky, and she watched its ascent through the window, past the two people seated beside her. Both of them had their eyes closed, resting with the plane's headphones in their ears as they listened to whatever crap music that the plane was playing for them.

Eventually, the flight attendants announced that it was okay for the passengers to use any electronics they may have aside from their cell phones. Beca decided to focus on her mixes, but while she was on her computer, she found herself opening a word document and typing a letter. She didn't know what inspired her to do it, but she did. She began with a message to her dad.

_Dear Dad,_

_I am so sorry that I shut you out after the divorce and treated you so badly over the years. I am sad that I never tried to repair our relationship, but after the divorce, I blamed you for leaving mom and me. I didn't think about how hard it must have been for you to _stay_. I know that you love me, especially after all of this. I mean, you helped me find a job and a place to live in LA, just because I told you that it is where I belong. I appreciate that so much, you have no idea. I just…I wish I realized sooner that you cared about me—like, really cared about me. I know that in the back of my mind that you loved me, because you are my dad, but just seeing how much effort you put into making me happy…it is beyond what I thought you were obligated to feel as my dad. I am sorry for putting you and Sheila through so much crap over the years. I am sorry that I have hurt you, and I want you to know that even though I have left, I love you and I will make a conscious effort to repair our relationship. You are my dad, and I want you in my life—more than I have let you be in the past. I love you, and give my best to Sheila. _

_I will miss you._

_Beca_

Beca knew that the letter wasn't enough, but it was a start. It was a start towards repairing everything that had been so strained and broken between them. She wanted to show her dad how much she appreciated him, and she wanted him to be involved in her life now. Beca hit enter a few times and began her message to the Bellas.

_Dear You Awesome Nerds,_

_I am writing you this to tell you how sorry I am. I am sorry that I was never serious about the Bellas. I am sorry that I never tried harder to get to know you girls or to show you how much I appreciated that you took me into our group of misfits with open arms. I am sorry that I changed the set list on you guys in the middle of our set at the Semi-Finals. I am sorry that I ran away after it was over. I am sorry that I failed you guys as a friend and a teammate. I screwed up, and I wish that I could go back and change it. I am most of all sorry that I can't be there with you all now, supporting you and helping you in any way that I can to win at the Finals. But, I want you all to know that you are the most talented, kind, good people that I have ever met. Oh, and that you guys are completely crazy and weird, but it is for those reasons that I love you all. Yes, even you, Aubrey. I know that we didn't get along most of the time, because we didn't have similar interests and you have serious issues with control, but I still care about you, Aubrey. I know how passionate you are about the Bellas; I know how hard you work, trying to win and make the Bellas into something even better than they were before. I wish that I could have understood and appreciated that when we were in the group together, because maybe things could have gone more smoothly between us. I know that you don't want to break tradition, Aubrey, but think about it this way: those women that you chose to honor by performing their songs broke the mold—they strove to become contenders in the music business and to become inspirations to women all over the world. You can still do that by using songs that are more modern—sing songs that people are listening to now. Talk to the other girls; see what kind of music they would like to sing or what they can bring to the table. You all are so talented in so many ways, so why not showcase what everyone has to offer. Aubrey, you know a cappella like the back of your hands—you know what is okay and what isn't, so you know just how far you guys could go to succeed. _

_I have faith that you all will dig the Trebles into the grave. You will win, because you are all so talented and strong and want it so badly. Good luck. I am rooting for you. _

_I would love to keep in touch with all of you via email, Facebook, text-messaging, whatever. Only if you want, of course. _

_Love, _

_Beca_

She took a moment to think about what she wanted to say in her last letter. This was her most important letter. She was honest with what she wrote to the girls and to her dad; she did want for them all to keep in touch and to repair the relationships she had with them. This letter, on the other hand, was going to be the hardest to write, because she was saying goodbye. The other letters were all about being open to the future relationships that she hoped that she could have with them, but this one was about closing a door that had been cracked open on her first day at Barden when she saw a goofy kid leaning out the car window and singing along on the radio and that had gradually inched its way open until it was slammed shut only a few days ago.

The difference between this letter and the last two was that it was going to be honest, but she was going to tell him one major lie. She couldn't let him to continue to pine for her, nor could she continue to want him from her afar. She had chosen her life to be in LA, so she was going to need to focus on that whole-heartedly. If she still had him waiting for her across the country in the back of her mind, she was always going to be left wondering. It wasn't fair to him, nor was it fair to her.

_Dear Jesse,_

She paused, not knowing how she wanted to start this letter. She took a deep breath, before finally beginning to type.

_I wasn't sure how I wanted to start this letter, because there is so much that I needed to say to you. I want to be honest with you, because I think that you deserve that after all this time. After my parents' divorce and my dad's remarriage, I always found myself building up all of these walls in order to protect myself, because I felt like nothing good ever comes from being open with people. For the longest time, I blamed my dad for leaving us, but secretly, I also blamed myself. I wondered whether or not it was my fault that he left. He constantly complained about how I didn't focus on school enough. He always complained about how much I talked back to him and my mom. He always complained about how I didn't listen to him when he tried to explain to me that remixing songs and DJing wasn't a career. It certainly didn't help that I occasionally shoplifted CDs or snuck out at night to party with my friends when I was only thirteen and fourteen. When he left when I was fifteen, I blamed myself. It was when I got my first tattoo, the one on my forearm. I thought that if I rebelled more that it would make him come back. When that didn't work, I started partying more and got the other three tattoos that I have, like the one on my back and on my shoulder and the one on ribcage that no one has really seen. After awhile, I realized that rebelling and sleeping around and partying wasn't bringing him back to us, so I cleaned up my act. I stopped drinking and sneaking out and shoplifting. I started doing better in school and wound up getting on the honor roll for my junior and senior years of high school. I thought that might bring him back to me. Then, I found out that he was marrying my step-mom the summer after I graduated from high school. I think it was then that I built up the last of my walls, because no matter what I did, he would never come back to me._

_My mom couldn't help me get to LA, which was my dream. She didn't make enough money, and she was busy with her new boyfriends and job to really worry about me after the divorce, so I hoped that my dad would be willing to help me get to LA. He makes a nice amount of money working as a professor, so why wouldn't he be willing to giving a couple of thousand to move across the country? So, when I asked him about it at the wedding, he told me that he could get me a full-ride at Barden—everything for free. He told me that he would help me move to LA if I got my education first. So, I agreed._

_However, when he realized that I wasn't making friends, I wasn't going to classes, and the only thing I was doing at Barden was working at the radio station, he made that pact with me that I had to try harder for the remainder of my freshman year—join a club, go to classes, et cetera—then he would help me move to LA when the year was over if I still wanted to go. So, I joined the Bellas. I also started to get closer to you. I wish that I could go back now, Jesse, and start over with us. I wish that I could have been honest with you from the beginning and to tell you that I am broken and a mess. I wish that I wouldn't have let you fall for me and ignored it, because it felt good to be appreciated for once in my life. I wish that I didn't let myself hurt you or hurt myself. _

_The Bellas have a rule about not being with the Trebles because they don't respect us. As you probably know by now, Aubrey is a firm believer in following tradition. She made my life hell, because she knew that you and I were friends, and I think everyone knew that you liked me as more than that. You certainly weren't shy about how you felt._

_At first, I was only listening to what my dad said—staying with the Bellas, because it meant that he would help me move to LA when the year was over, but then I started to make friends with those girls, and I started to enjoy it. (Please don't tell anyone that!) I knew that what I wanted from you only conflicted with what the Bellas wanted, needed, and demanded. I probably should have been honest with you the night you first tried to kiss me, but I wasn't._

_I am sorry that I am rambling, because this letter is important, and I need to stay focused on what I have to say to you. Jesse, I care about you, and when you shut that door in my face and when I overheard you say to Benji that you weren't going to wait around for me to figure my shit out, it hit me then how awful I was to you and what I was actually feeling about you. I had fallen for you, no matter how much I tried to deny it to you, to Aubrey, to myself. But, you had given up. Just like I had given up the Bellas. I had nothing left at Barden, except mediocre grades and my dad—and our relationship certainly wasn't the best. After that conversation, I went to him and I explained that I had nothing left there, so he helped me find a job and an apartment in LA, just as he promised that he was going to do for me only a few short months later. I dropped out of Barden and packed up my things, never to look back on the life that I had had for the past eight months._

_Then, I ran into Amy. Then, I was sitting on the plane, and I listened to your message._

She paused for a moment, feeling the tears burn in her eyes again. This is where the hard part was going to happen. This is where she was going to turn her back on him. It was honestly what was for the best for both of them. She knew that this letter was going to hurt him, but she also knew that it was important for him to read it and to move on, just as it was for her, too.

_I listened to your message, and I wondered whether or not I was making a mistake. For a moment, I felt like I was. I had friends in the Bellas. I had my dad. I had you. There were so many good things at Barden that should have been enough to keep me there. But, I didn't really have my dad, because our relationship was so strained and still needed to be repaired. I think we work better when we have distance between us—it is less pressured to repair it gradually when we aren't forced to see each other, and he doesn't hear from the other professors that I am failing their exams or not turning in schoolwork. It isn't pressured that I get along with Sheila, who I frankly don't like very much. I didn't have the Bellas, because I ruined their chances of moving on to the Finals and then I left them when they did get that chance because the other group was disqualified. While I do love all of the girls in the Bellas, I know that it is going to take a lot to repair my relationship with them, too. I think that the distance will help us do that, because I can let down all of my walls without still being too close to them. Does that make sense? So, I have this apartment and this job in LA waiting for me, two things that I can't give up. I have this whole new world open to me, and I know that it is best for me to go there and to try to do what I have always dreamt about doing. I feel like I can finally find myself in LA, when I couldn't do that when I was at Barden and in the Bellas and with you. _

_I know you are probably wondering where you come in—what do I want from you now that I know that moving to LA is for the best for me and not a mistake after all. The answer is that I want you to move on._

Beca released a shuddering breath. She wiped at her eyes again as a few rogue tears slipped down her cheeks. She knew that she looked like a mess and that she needed to pull herself together. This was for the best, she kept chanting in her mind. It is for the best. This one moment of hurt for Jesse was for the best, because he would move on and find someone who could give herself to him completely—a girl who didn't build up walls, bring him down with snide comments, or push people away.

_I want you to move on, because I can't keep hurting you. I know that in your message, you said that you were willing to be friends and to have me anyway that I was willing, but I know that you are always going to be left wondering why I didn't want you in the way that you deserve to be wanted—why I didn't care for you in the way that you deserve to be cared for. So, I want you to move on. I want you to find someone special who is worthy of you. I can't be friends with you, because I know that it would only hurt you. And, I am selfish enough to admit that it would hurt me, too. I don't think that I could even be friends with you and hear about the girls that you might fall for; I think that I would probably take advantage of the feelings that you had developed for me to tell you that they weren't right for you and that you shouldn't be with them, but still never give you what you wanted from me. _

_I am always going to be running, Jesse, from commitment and from good people, like you, who want to get close to me. I don't know when I will be able to stop running. It is for that reason that I am writing this letter to you. I sincerely hope that I can find what I need in LA, and I also hope that you will be able to find everything that you want and need out of life, because if anyone deserves it, it is you. If I don't—if you don't—I will be left with a huge amount of regret, and I don't think that I could handle that._

_I am sorry that I am always hurting you, Jesse. I want you to know that I really do care about you, which is why I am writing you this letter. I hope you are happy, Jesse. Good luck with Barden, the Treblemakers, and life. I want you to know that I will miss you._

_Goodbye,_

_Beca_

Beca took a deep breath, reading through the letters one last time. They were exactly what she wanted and needed to say. Except, she wasn't honest with Jesse. She didn't tell him that she had fallen in love with him. She didn't tell him that she wished that they could still be together, even though they lived across the country from each other. But, it was right this way. It had to be.


	3. Until You (Part 2 of 2)

**Until You're Mine**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Part 2 of 2**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Until You're Mine**_** by Demi Lovato **

**Author's Note: Here's the sequel to **_**I Hope You Find It**_**. I hope that you enjoy this one, guys. So, I always figured that Bumper was a nickname, so I gave him the first name of John. John "Bumper" Allen. I like it, haha. Does anyone know what the tattoo Beca has on her arm is? I couldn't tell from the movie, so I said that it was an infinity symbol. Sheesh! This wound up being long!**

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Beca studied her appearance in the mirror. Her appearance had changed over the last few years in LA. She wore a pair of dark skinny jeans, a pair of black ankle-boots with three inch heels, a black lace tank top, and an over-sized dark purple sweater that fell off one of her shoulders. Her hair was cut in a layered medium-length bob that fell a few inches below her chin. Her makeup was a lot more subdued now, as well; she didn't wear as much eye makeup now—her look had matured as she had. Her newest tattoo was partially visible beneath her shirt; after she had found out that she was going to get producing credit on a song for a new artist two months later—a goal she had been working steadily towards over the last few years—she wanted to remind herself of that moment for the rest of her life, so she had a quote by Henry James tattooed a few inches below her right clavicle: _It's time to start living the life you've imagined_. She had spent most of her adolescence and early adulthood imagining that she was going to be living in LA and producing music. She had paid her dues, and now she was finally going to start living that life.

Those two months were excruciating for her while she waited for the artist—_John Allen_—finished writing his next song. Apparently, he had been a backup singer for John Mayer and a few other artists over the last few years, and now he was going to try his hand at his own music career. She was looking forward to her first day working with the artist. She hoped that she could get the song nearly finished for when she flew back to Atlanta for a few weeks for Amy, Stacie, Lilly, and Cynthia's graduation from Barden. She was looking forward to seeing those girls again, and Chloe and Aubrey had already told her via text and Facebook that they, too, were flying in to celebrate with the girls at a huge graduation party held in the outdoor atrium where Aca-Initiation night was always held.

At the same time, Beca was nervous about going back to Barden, because it was likely that she was going to see Jesse again, since the Trebles and the Bellas had let bygones be bygones after Beca moved across the country—Aubrey had taken Beca's message in the letter seriously, especially after Bumper dropped out of school around the same time that Beca did (which, Beca thought was stupid, considering that he was going to graduate in only a few short weeks, but it wasn't her business). The only thing she knew about the Trebles was the little that Amy and Stacie passed along to her. Benji stopped talking to her after she had mailed her letter to Jesse. She missed talking to both of them, but she understood why Benji sided with Jesse.

Beca gave herself one final swipe of her rosy lip gloss before grabbing her bag and making her way into the kitchen of the apartment she moved into after her first year of subletting from her dad's former student had finished. It was much closer to her job, thankfully, because that first year was hell trying to deal with LA traffic and living so very far away from the job. She poured the coffee she had made into her travel mug and grabbed a banana before heading out the door, car keys, light breakfast, and bag in hand. She was ready for her first real day as a music producer.

Nothing could have prepared Beca for who she came across when she entered the studio to meet the artist she would be working with on his new song. Her jaw literally dropped open and she dropped her half-eaten banana on the floor. "BUMPER?!" She practically yelled, wide-eyed. Bumper jumped up from where he was seated beside the engineer and a couple of other people.

"Beca!? Holy shit!" He came forward, pulling her into a hug. Beca couldn't believe it. She shook her head, remembering faintly in the back of her mind that she knew Bumper's last name was Allen, but she didn't know his first name was in fact John. "No one has called me that in a long time—except when I meet up with Donald and the guys. You look amazing." He said, pulling away from her. "Did we ever sleep together?" She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

"Still an asshole, I see." Bumper winked. She bent over and grabbed the banana off the floor, tossing it in the trash can as she walked over to Ryan, the engineer. "You look great, too." She wasn't lying. Bumper had lost a few pounds and gotten a haircut, so he looked pretty well. The last three years had been kind to him.

"Thanks. I try. So, you are going to produce this track?"

"Yeah, it is the first one that I will be producing by myself—well, you get producing credit, too, but you know what I mean."

"Well, congrats, but don't fuck it up, okay?" Beca rolled her eyes and flipped him off.

"Um…?" One of the men that she didn't recognize crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Chill, Charlie. She is an old…competitor?" Bumper said, scratching the back of his head and looking at Beca for assistance. They weren't friends, so that certainly wasn't the right word.

"Yeah, competitor works. We went to college together." She told this Charlie guy. "Sort of…I think I dropped out a few days before you, Bumper." She told him, placing her hands on her hips. "I guess it worked out for the both of us."

"I still can't believe that you dropped out. When Amy told me, I was kind of shocked. I thought that you would come crawling back to the Bellas and beg for forgiveness. I was even more shocked when I found out that you dumped Jesse." Beca frowned, biting her bottom lip. She took a sip of her coffee, looking away from him.

"He was better off without me anywhere near him." She muttered, scratching the inside of her left wrist where she had tattooed the words _hope is a waking dream_, a quote by Aristotle.

"Well, according to Donald, he was a mess for the last few weeks of school, and he kind of went AWOL over the summer when they all tried to get together."

"I told him that he should move on, because I lived across the country."

"Well, Unicycle told me that he came back in the fall fine and a new girlfriend, so I guess he got over you." Beca gave him a quick smile, still hurting over having to say goodbye to Jesse.

"Good for him. So, should we get started on your song? I am hoping that we can get as much of finished before I go back to Atlanta in three weeks for the girls' graduation."

"Oh, shit…they would be graduating about now, huh? I haven't been in touch with the girls in a while; I have kept up with the guys, but not the girls."

"Yeah, they are throwing a big party in the atrium where Aca-Initiation night is held. Chloe, Aubrey, and I think a lot of the Trebles are going to be there. They asked me to go, so I figured that I could fly out there and see them and visit my dad. Everyone has always come here to visit me, so I guess I should go to them eventually, right?"

"Can I tag along?" Beca raised her eyebrows at that. She didn't expect Bumper to want to go back to Atlanta with them.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I haven't seen all them in forever. It would be good to catch up. Plus, I can gloat about my new album." Bumper grinned, making Beca laugh and roll her eyes. "This way you can play around with remixes of my song on all that crap you would lug around Barden. Maybe work on a few more songs." Beca was going to agree, because he was basically asking her to produce some more of his songs.

"Sure. I am flying out three Fridays from now at two in the afternoon. It would put us in Atlanta at about five or so."

"Sounds good. Charlie, book me a plane ticket to Atlanta." He told the guy who had been snippy with her earlier.

"I am your manager, not your assistant."

"Charlie, book the goddamn plane ticket!" Beca laughed, because there are some things that don't change—Bumper was still a big asshole. "Switch Beca's seat to first class with me."

* * *

Beca tried to remain calm on the plane as she thought about all of the demons she was flying back towards now. Ever since she had run into Bumper and talked about her history with Jesse, she couldn't get her mind off of him. That night, she looked at the old pictures she had from her very short school year at Barden—pictures of her and the Bellas, pictures of both groups together after competitions and from the Riff-Off, and pictures of her and Jesse hanging out (sometimes with Benji or Luke, but usually just her and Jesse). The first time she laid her eyes on him, she felt like she could breathe for the first time in the last few years she had been in LA. She didn't know what came over her, but she felt like she _had to_ Facebook stalk him like a fourteen year old girl. His page was private, but she perused Amy, Stacie, and Lilly's pages to see pictures of him over the years. Occasionally, she had done this in the past, but she spent three hours that night looking through all of the pictures that they had of him on their pages.

Apparently, his girlfriend sophomore year was a girl named Casey, and she had been a year younger than him in high school. She got into Barden and joined the Bellas, so there were a lot of "cute" pictures of him and Casey at Bella/Treble activities. The hardest pictures for Beca to look at were the pictures where she and Jesse were kissing or hugging or holding hands. She clicked on Casey's page, wanting to learn more about the girl. Her page wasn't private, and Beca learned a lot about the girl. She was a redhead, interested in horseback riding, played the flute, and a Libra. She was an avid movie lover. Beca almost choke on her own tongue when she saw it: in a relationship with Jesse Swanson; their anniversary was July fifth—they had been together for the nearly three years that she had been gone.

Beca didn't know why she was letting herself get upset about it. She told him to move on from her, and she had moved on from him. She had dated a couple of people over the years before she finally agreed to go out with Elijah, the son of her dad's friend who had gotten her the job. She had dated him for over a year—they had only broken up the week before. Elijah didn't like that Beca had started hanging out with Bumper (who she had become, surprisingly, close to since they had reconnected three weeks earlier). The second that Eli had gone to the bathroom when Beca had introduced him to Bumper at dinner a few days before their breakup, Bumper had told her simply, "lose that douche, Beca. He is a total dickhead—trust me, I know dickheads." He said, pointing to himself, making Beca laugh, not realizing just how right Bumper was until she stopped by his apartment and found him in bed with one of the new interns. Apparently, Eli thought that she was screwing Bumper, so it was okay to screw someone else. When she told Bumper Eli's excuse, he threatened to hack the guy's balls off—or rather, he knew people who could do that—which cheered Beca up immensely.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mitchell?" Beca jumped and turned to Bumper who was studying her.

"I am afraid of going back," she confessed. "I have stayed in contact with the girls, but I know it is going to be really weird seeing him after all these years." She ran a hand through her hair.

"Did you love him?" Bumper asked her, and Beca took a deep breath before blowing it out.

"Yeah, I did, but I never told him that." She told him after a moment. "I told him that I couldn't be friends with him. I told him that I was never going to stop running away from my problems, which is why I couldn't even stay friends with him. I told him that I didn't want to take advantage of the feelings that he had for me by telling him not to date the girls that he would become interested in. I told him that I couldn't keep hurting him, so I let him go." She turned away from him to look out the window—she was sitting in the window seat this time.

"Well, that is really mature of you, Becs." Bumper told her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it lightly. "He is moving to LA, you know?" Beca glanced at him quickly, shocked.

"Yeah, he got a job working at Pixar or something. After you and I met up, I friend-requested all the old Trebles and the Bellas. I got caught with everyone's business."

"Oh, that's great." She whispered, pulling her hand back from Bumper to scratch the back of her neck. "Good for him."

"Yeah, he is starting at the bottom, but I am hoping that I can get him to sneak one of my songs into one of the movies he is working on." Beca rolled her eyes at that. It was hard for her not to let her mind wonder to the possibility of him and her now that he was going to be in LA. No, he has a girlfriend. They are two different people now. They had both grown up, and they probably have nothing in common anymore. Well, they only really had music in common before, but if Beca could mature and become interested in other things, then he might have too, and those new interests might conflict.

"You never know, John." Beca often switched between calling him John and Bumper; alone, she usually called him Bumper, and she thought of him as Bumper, but she had gotten used to calling him John due to work, because that was the name he preferred to go by in the music industry, rather than his college nickname.

"I will get my songs into the movie, Beca!" He insisted, making her giggle like a kid.

"I have no doubt." She told him, knowing that if anyone could muscle their music into a movie, it would be John "Bumper" Allen.

"The three of us should get together when he settles into the city. I have been helping looking for apartments." Bumper said casually. Beca crinkled her nose and ran a hand through her hair. "I mean, I know that there is an opening in your building…"

"Bumper, stop." She shook her head. "I can't…can we just talk about how excited you are to see Fat Amy?" She practically pleaded with him. It was killing her to think that he was going to be in the same city as her, and he was going to be just as much out of reach as he was when she was at Barden and just after she had moved to LA. He had his girlfriend. He had a new life. The life she told him to live.

"Okay, I will stop."

They landed and rented a car, driving to a hotel that wasn't far from Barden. They got rooms across the hall from each other and ate in the restaurant before heading to their separate rooms for the night. Graduation was early the next morning, and Amy had sent her one of her extra tickets she had from her allotted four, since she didn't have any siblings and only her parents were going to be flying in from Australia for the graduation. Bumper wasn't going to the graduation, so Beca told him to take some time to work on his new songs. The two of them had finished one and a half of his songs together, and he was in the middle of writing a couple of new ones, which he was insisting that Beca help produce. Their new friendship was turning out to be pretty lucrative for the both of them, because Beca was great at producing, and Bumper was a surprisingly good writer. Beca had told the girls that she was bringing a friend to the party the night of graduation, but she refused to tell them it was Bumper, because he had made Beca promise to keep it a secret. He wanted to surprise everyone.

Beca sat with Chloe and Aubrey (who had gotten one of Stacie's and one of Lilly's extra tickets) during the graduation, as well as Donald, Unicycle, and a couple of the other Trebles who had already graduated—all of whom had snagged an extra ticket from younger graduating members. It took everything in her not to talk about how she and Bumper were friends and that she was producing his album—she was vague with them, though, telling them she produced a lot of the songs for a new artist, John Allen. Chloe gripped her hand when Jesse's name was called, and she gave the redhead a hesitant smile.

Beca texted Bumper asking him how songwriting was going and telling him that she was going to go out to lunch with the Bellas to celebrate the girls' graduation before heading back to the hotel to take a nap and get ready for the party. They planned on being up all night, so it was only fitting that they got rested before the drinking extravaganza as Amy kept referring to it. Beca felt weird being in the same room with Casey, because she wanted nothing more than to ask the girl what was so special about her to be able to snag Jesse. She shook her head and kept quiet for a good portion of the lunch.

"Beca, why are you so quiet?" Stacie asked her. "I feel like you are Lilly from freshman year." She paused. "Minus the creepy things she used to say."

"I'm fine. It is just a little weird being back here." She glanced around the diner that they all used to go to after evening practices.

"Who are you bringing tonight?" Amy asked, wagging her eyebrows at Beca, making the brunette roll her eyes. "Is he hot? Is he your boyfriend? Is he good in bed? How big is his dick?" Beca snorted by Amy's last two questions.

"His name is John. I am producing a few of his songs on his first album." Beca told her. "He is kind of cute, but isn't my boyfriend—or my type. I don't know if he is good in bed or how big his dick is, but I am sure that you could tell me." Shit! That isn't what she meant to say. Amy cocked an eyebrow at her, and Beca had to think quickly to save herself. "You will probably sleep with him tonight, slut." She joked, taking a sip of her soda.

"Truth." Cynthia said, raising her glass.

"Would I want to sleep with him?" Stacie asked.

"You are probably going to sleep with Donald." Chloe said, rolling her eyes. "He kept asking me if I knew what dress you were wearing under your gown. He wanted to know if it was something that would show off your wrack."

"Oh, yeah, Donald always was good in bed. We had a lot of fun the night of Regionals."

"What?!" Aubrey shrieked from a few chairs away.

"Oops! I mean, no, I didn't sleep with Donald after Regionals freshman year." Stacie said, chewing on a thumb nail. The girls at the table started giggling while Aubrey huffed.

"First, Bumper and Amy, now you and Donald. How many of you guys were sleeping with Trebles that year?" Aubrey asked them; her eyes widened when all of the girls (including Chloe!), except Cynthia Rose and Denise (no big surprise there), raised their hands. Beca crossed her arms and glared at Aubrey when she laid her eyes on Beca.

"We all know that I _wasn't_ sleeping with any Trebles that year." Beca said pointedly, not wanting to name Jesse, because Casey was only a few chairs away.

"Poor Beca and Jesse," Stacie moaned, sticking out her bottom lip as she ran a hand through her hair. "The sexual tension between those two was out of control!" She fanned a hand near her face, winking at Beca. Beca shut her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"What?" Casey said loudly. Stacie grimaced, looking away from the junior Bella. "You and Jesse." She narrowed her eyes at Beca and looked her up and down. Beca felt self-conscious all of a sudden. She had recently gotten her hair trimmed, because the layers had started to grow out. She was dressed in a jean skirt and a loose light blue top with a white lace tank top beneath it. On her feet, she had a pair of white heels, which Chloe, Stacie, and Aubrey had praised when they had first seen her. They had all been shocked by Beca's transformation as the years had gone on. Casey gave her a look of distaste, because nearly all of Beca's seven tattoos were visible, aside from the one in the center of her back and the one her ribcage. She had the tattoo of her favorite flowers on her shoulder, the infinity symbol on her right forearm, the quote on her left wrist, and a final quote by Walt Disney on the top of her foot that read _if you can dream it, you can do it_. "You don't look like his type." Casey sniffed.

"You should have seen her four years ago." Aubrey muttered. "I am so glad that you got rid of those ear monstrosities two years ago, Beca. I do like the new tattoo on your chest, though. Nice quote. Henry James, right?" Beca nodded, remembering that Aubrey had been an English major at Barden. Now, she was a high school English and music teacher in Pennsylvania and living with her boyfriend Troy.

"Yeah, Beca was really into the alternative style back then. She was hot, but I think she is even hotter now," Chloe said, winking. "She has a great wrack in case any of you are wondering." Beca snorted, remembering the time that Chloe had climbed in the shower with her.

"How would you know?" Cynthia asked, cocking an eyebrow at Chloe and Beca.

"Chloe is a freak. She harassed me in the shower, because I was singing _Titanium_."

"Chloe! How many times do I have to remind you that you can't just climb into the shower with people who have good voices!" Aubrey said, shaking her head in exasperation. Chloe shrugged her shoulders.

"I was never so scared in my life, but there is a reason why Chloe and I became thick as thieves rather quickly." Beca said, holding her fist out to Chloe, who immediately pounded it. "We did get up close and personal with each other's junk." The girls laughed, and Casey was still frowning over Beca and Jesse's almost relationship.

"Jesse never told me he dated anyone his freshman year." She said suddenly, sobering up the group rather quickly. Beca glared at Stacie, who mouthed that she was sorry back.

"We didn't date." Beca told her after a moment, her voice strained. She texted Bumper that she hates Jesse's girlfriend.

"Yeah, that was Aubrey's fault." Chloe said pointedly. Aubrey frowned, crossing her arms.

"Tradition dictated that Bellas shouldn't engage in sexual relations with Trebles, because they didn't respect us."

"Actually, I think that was just Bumper." Amy added.

"Regardless!" Aubrey said, taking a sip of her water.

"Then, why was it okay when I got into the Bellas the next year?" Casey asked, smiling smugly at Beca, as if she was better than her. Beca just stared at the girl—really? Shut up, bitch, Beca thought to herself.

"Because after Beca dropped out of Barden and moved to LA, she helped Aubrey to see that being so obsessed with tradition wasn't going to help the Bellas win at the Finals." Beca glanced at the text she received from Bumper: _get back to the hotel now! Big news!_

"Hey, guys, John just texted me that I need to get back to the hotel. He probably wants to go over one his new songs, so I will see you all tonight."

"Sounds good! See you later, loves." All of Beca's friends stood up with her and hugged her goodbye. She waved to the rest of the newbie Bellas before making her way out the door. She called Bumper as she was leaving, wondering what was such a big deal.

"Can't tell you until you get back here. Please tell me you have a nice amount of money in your bank account, Becs."

"Why?"

"I will tell you when you get to the hotel!"

When Beca arrived at the hotel, Bumper insisted that they go shopping. She wanted to know why he was insisting that she buy new lace underwear at Victoria's Secret or a short black dress that would rival Stacie's sluttiest clothes. "What the hell is all of this?" Beca asked him, completely confused when Bumper asked her when the last time she got a bikini wax was.

"Because you need to look really hot to night to get your man." Beca rolled her eyes. She didn't need this from Bumper. Her mind was already swirling with these kind of ideas, but she kept telling herself that she had no right to hope for any of that to happen, considering that she had pushed Jesse away just over three years ago.

"Bumper, stop. I am not going to steal him away from his girlfriend. Besides, Jesse wasn't into slutty clothing, or else he would have gone for Stacie four years ago." She pointed out to him while she walked around Victoria's Secret with him trailing her like a puppy. She was always willing to get more underwear from there, but she wasn't going to go dress shopping when she had brought a perfectly good dress with her. She decided on a black lace thong and a matching strapless bra to wear under her dress. Bumper gave her a thumbs up when he saw what she had selected.

"Right, I forgot that he was Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes." Bumper said rolling his eyes. "But, I will be damned if you don't bring Jesse Swanson to your hotel room tonight, Beca."

"He has a girlfriend, Bumper!"

"They broke up!" Beca's eyes widened in surprise.

"What?!"

"Yeah, when you texted me about it, I checked out their Facebook pages—they broke things off last night. According to his responses to all of the comments asking what happened, his job needs him in LA in like two weeks, so he is flying out there in a couple days to find a place and a car and shit." Beca didn't say anything for a moment, just took in what Bumper was telling her. "Basically, he didn't think it was fair to do the whole long distance thing with Casey. So, you can snag your boy tonight." That brought Beca back to reality.

"He just got out of a three year relationship, Bumper. I am not going to be the rebound girl. Plus, I just broke up with Eli." He groaned, grabbing his hair and shaking his head at her. She raised an eyebrow at him in shock.

"First, you tell him that you don't want to be with him because you are a commitment-phobe, and now you don't want to be the rebound girl? Bitch, you are crazy!" Beca rolled her eyes at him.

"I think that I have grown up a lot in the last three years since he and I have spoken. I finally got over my commitment issues enough to date Eli for a year, so I would like to think that I can do relationships now."

"Beca, if you and Jesse are meant to be together, then the fact that you two broke up with people only just recently shouldn't matter! Besides, we both know that Eli was just there to fill the void of Jesse." Beca rolled her eyes at him.

"Bumper, I can't think about things being meant to be or anything like that. It is too mentally exhausting. I would like to be with Jesse again, and if it works out, then that is great, but I just…uggh! I need to go take a nap and get ready for tonight. By the way, I told the girls that I was bringing John tonight, because they kept asking who I was bringing."

"Cool beans," Bumper grinned. "But, I am telling you Beca, things are going to work out, you know."

* * *

Beca showered and styled her makeup to match the dress that she had brought with her from LA. It was a purple strapless dress that was form-fitting enough to show off her curves, but not too skin-tight. The dress fell mid-thigh on her, and she had planned to pair it with her black ankle boots and gold jewelry. She had gotten a mani-pedi the night before, choosing black nail polish (some things didn't change, such as her love of black nail polish). She exited her hotel room and knocked on Bumper's door. He whistled when he opened the door, taking Beca in.

"Okay, so you look hot like that." Beca rolled her eyes at him. He looked nice in his dark jeans and black button up shirt.

"Let's go, slow poke." She told him. They drove to the campus, parking on the street near the atrium. Beca carefully made her way in her heels down the steps. Bumper had planned on hiding before jumping out.

"HOLY SHIT! BECA MITCHELL, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE, YOU SEXY BITCH!" Amy shrieked from her spot at the bottom of the steps. Beca threw her head back and laughed, holding out her arms and turning in a circle for her Bella friends and the couple of Trebles that she talked to freshman year wolf-whistled and cat-called at her. When she finished turning around, her eyes fell on Casey first, who was glaring from her spot in the middle of the younger Bellas. They didn't last there long, though, because her eyes were immediately drawn to Jesse who was standing by the kegs with Donald, Hat, Unicycle, and Benji. His eyes bore a hole in her, and she blushed, running a hand through her hair.

"Where is this fella that you were telling us about?" Chloe called out from where she was holding hands with a tall brunette man that she didn't recognize, who Beca assumed was her boyfriend, James. Based on the mischievous look on Chloe's face, she assumed that the redhead had realized that Jesse was practically eye-sexing Beca from across the atrium. Beca scratched her head.

"I honestly have no idea." She called out as she carefully made her way down the stairs. "He said something about needing to make an entrance." She had made it to the spot where she had stood the first time she had been in this atrium four years prior.

"WHAT'S UP, BITCHES AND ASSHOLES!?" Bumper yelled as he jumped out from his hiding place, arms spread. "Bumper's back!" Beca rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Seriously, Bumper? This is the big entrance you wanted make? You explicitly told me not to tell anyone that you were coming with me only to scream that? You are such an asshole." Everyone stared at Beca in shock as Bumper made his way down the steps and threw an arm around her shoulder.

"Don't act like you don't love it, Becs." He said, bumping her hip with is.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Amy, Stacie, Chloe, Aubrey, and the rest of the girls screeched. Chloe, who was closest, made her way to Beca and pulled her by her hands until their noses were touching, just as she had four years ago. "Explain, bitch!" She said loudly, releasing Beca.

"Guys, allow me to introduce you all to John Allen, the guy I was telling you about. I am producing about half of the songs on his first album." She shrugged. She made her way down the steps toward the kegs, needing a beer. Bumper followed, saying his hellos to everyone.

"So, you guys aren't dating, right?" Amy asked, studying Bumper, who winked at her.

"Ew! God, no!" Bec muttered, grimacing and shaking her head in disgust.

"She wishes, but I told her that I can't mix business with pleasure." Beca smacked him upside his head.

"Bumper and I ran into each other three weeks ago when I went to the studio to work with John Allen. He is surprisingly a great songwriter and singer when he doesn't try to be a douche bag about it." Beca said, eyes twinkling as she teased Bumper, who just flipped her off and then handed her a drink. "We started hanging out more and more, and we became friends."

"Yeah, someone had to talk some sense into Beca about breaking up with her douche-bag ex-boyfriend." Bumper said, taking a sip of his beer. "Shit, this tastes like ass."

"When was the last time you tasted ass, Bumper?" Beca asked him, smirking.

"Last night, when I ran into your mom." She kicked him in the shin, making him curse in pain. "Fuck, I was kidding, Mitchell. Relax."

"Do you want me to fuck up your songs?" Bumper pouted. "Didn't think so."

"I'm sorry, but I am still trying to wrap my head around you and Bumper being friends." Stacie said, scratching the back of her head. "Did you used to say he looked like a gremlin?" Beca started laughing, her head falling back at the look on Bumper's face.

"You called me a gremlin?" He asked, completely shocked. She bit her lip and tried to stop laughing. "Dude, that is so mean! You are such a bitch!"

"You have called me worse to my face, John. In front of my co-workers. And waitresses and bar tenders and strangers. And Eli. And Mrs. Collins, my elderly neighbor. And when I was skyping with my dad!" Bumper started laughing, thinking about the horrendous things of a sexual nature he said when he was hanging out in her apartment, and she was skyping with her dad.

"Dude, can I go with you tomorrow when you visit Steven? He told me that he misses me when I texted him today."

"You were texting my dad?" Beca asked him, before rolling her eyes and waving him off. "I don't even want to know how you got his number and why he would miss you."

"Well, you weren't going to tell him that you broke up with the douche, so I took it upon myself to go through your phone and get his number. We had a nice talk about how I plan on putting your next boyfriend through a vigorous testing period before I allow him between your legs."

"BUMPER!" She punched him in the arm, hard, and he cursed in pain. "Stop talking to my dad! Freak!"

"I think my mind has been blown." Amy muttered. "This is so fucking weird. It is like they are brother and sister…I feel like I might puke." Beca giggled.

"I feel sick looking at his face nearly every day, so I can understand." Bumper pinched her before turning his attention elsewhere, bored with the conversation.

"'Sup, Jesse. How's it going?" Beca let her eyes stray to Jesse from her spot where she was talking to Chloe, Amy, and Stacie, who were questioning about her relationship with Bumper…still.

"Um, hey, Bumper." Jesse coughed. Beca got distracted from their conversation as she thought about all of the conversations they had four years prior—the movie nights, the intimate discussions about their goals for the future, about their exes from high school, all of it. His voice was so warm and inviting during those conversations. Then, she was reminded of the times that they had fought and how hurt he had been when he left her that message on the phone. She was brought back to reality when she heard what Bumper was saying to him.

"It sucks that you broke up with your girlfriend, but you must be looking forward to moving to LA." Bumper said. Beca froze for a moment, but she tried to casually take a sip of her beer. Stacie was talking about her plans to go to graduate school to become a sex therapist. She thought that she loved sex a lot, so why not counsel people who were having sex problems.

"Yeah, um…" Jesse looked uncomfortable, not sure where this conversation was going. Beca didn't either, and she frowned when she was out of beer. She wiggled her cup at the girls and made her way over to the keg, listening carefully to Jesse and Bumper. "I am looking forward to working on movies, even if I am just going to be assisting for awhile. It is one step closer to scoring them on my own."

"Totally," Bumper nodded. "That is what Beca said about producing music. She told me that she had to work her way to producing credits. At first, she was one of many and didn't even get her name on the CD jacket, then she was one of four, and they finally let her produce one on her own—which was my song. Now, she and I are producing most of my songs together. She said she took it one day at time, working really hard." Beca chugged her new beer, ignoring the way that it went straight to her head. She filled it again, hoping like hell that Bumper would stop being so awkward and obvious about what he was hinting at.

"Yeah, that is what I am planning on doing. Working hard and taking it one day at a time until they let me do my own movie." Jesse said, sipping his beer. She felt his eyes on her.

"You should totally hang out with Beca and me when you move to LA." Beca stopped dead when she heard him say that, on her way back to the girls. "Since she broke up with the douche-nozzle, I'm her only friend." Beca's jaw tensed, and she walked over to him, punching him again.

"I have other friends, asshole." She said, turning on her heel.

"Then how come I haven't met them?!"

"Because you are needy and clingy!" She said told him, smirking as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "No, I hang out with them during the day, since you have commandeered my nights most of the time over the last few weeks."

"Who?"

"Alice, Loren, Sam, Ryan, Micah, Peter, Josh. Remember, you hit on my best friend, Jill, when you came over when she was leaving that night." Bumper nodded, grinning lavishly as he thought of Beca's bubbly blonde friend.

"Right, she is so hot!" Beca rolled her eyes. "Wait, I remember Josh now. He is the underwear model, right?" Beca shook her head. "Didn't he try to get you to sleep with him after the label's party two weeks ago?"

"Bumper, you think everyone is trying to sleep with me."

"Cause your hot." Bumper said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's the tattoos and the girl next door combo." He told her seriously.

"I am glad you approve of my style." She told him. She glanced at Donald, hoping like hell that he would get the message and get Bumper to stop talking about Beca's sex life in front of Jesse.

"Dude, Bumper, why don't you help me pick a song to play from Amy's iTunes." Donald grabbed Bumper by the arm and drug him to the computer.

"I am sorry that he was being so annoying. I don't like to bring him out often, but he insisted on coming and bought me a first class plane ticket," Beca said by way of explanation to Jesse. It was really awkward, and she bit her lip unsure what to say. "So, yeah, it was good seeing you." She took a step back and started to walk away.

"Can we talk?" He said suddenly. Beca froze, turning to look at him. She nodded her head carefully. They walked away from the crowd and up the steps to a row some ways from the crowd. Beca sat down carefully, making sure that she put some distance between them. "May I ask why Bumper was shoving information about you down my throat back there?" She looked away in embarrassment, running a hand through her hair.

"He is Bumper?" She tried, glancing at Jesse with an innocent expression on her face. He just stared at her, so Beca figured that he didn't buy that excuse. "He knows that you and I haven't spoken in years, and he probably thought it would be fun to mess with the awkwardness that is between us." This was probably true to an extent, but Bumper was steadily becoming one of her closest friends, so he knew just how Beca had felt about Jesse after she had told him to move on and now. Which…she didn't feel anything for him now. Seriously. It has been three years. She is totally over him. Fuck, who was she kidding? She knew that the feelings she had for Jesse had never left, they were just buried down deep inside of her.

Beca had always felt partially empty, and just being beside him now, she found it easier to breathe and finally felt whole again. Jesse was like the missing puzzle piece, and she hoped that eventually, she would be able to break down the walls that he probably has built up when he is around her. She carefully looked at him, and she noticed that he was staring down into his drink. "Congrats on the job in LA. I am happy for you." She told him as she tugged at the hem of her skirt.

"Thanks, Beca." He smiled at her for the first time in three years. "I am so excited to start this juncture in my life. Sure, it is going to suck starting from the bottom, but hopefully, I can get the chance to score a couple of small movies—maybe some independent films on the side—but I am excited to get the whole process started." Beca smiled at his enthusiasm.

"That is how I felt when I first got to LA." She told him after a moment, hesitant to bring up that time. She refused to look at him when she said it, though—afraid of what his face might show. She was also afraid of what her face might show. "I mean, I was scared, because I was afraid that I didn't have what it takes to do it, you know?" She paused. "I am scared now that it is just me on a good number of Bumper's songs. I mean, he was the one who insisted that I help him with additional songs after we worked on his first song together." She said, taking a sip of her beer. "But, I am still scared that I am going to screw up his music."

"You were—are—really talented, Beca." He said quietly. "It was only a matter of time before people saw that. There is nothing for you to be afraid of." They sat in silence for awhile, and Beca felt the glares coming from Casey who was trying her best to make Jesse jealous by grinding with some Treble that Beca didn't recognize.

"I think she is trying to get your attention." She said, nodding her head in Casey's direction. Jesse glanced up and followed Beca's gesture to where Casey and the boy were dancing.

"She is pissed that I broke things off with her last night. I told her that I couldn't do the long distance thing. I think she expected me to propose to her or something." He told Beca, not even the least bit upset that Casey was practically making out with the guy.

"Oh…" Beca said, taking a big gulp of her beer. She didn't know how to respond to it.

"She kept giving me hints about it when I told her that I was applying to jobs in LA. She kept talking about how there were all these really pretty actresses and dancers and models in LA, and she knew that women would be throwing themselves at me, so even though she trusted me, she just wished that there was a way that she could be sure that they knew that I was taken." Beca nodded her head, taking another big sip of her beer.

"Huh…"

"Yeah, so I finally realized how much I didn't want that with her." Beca glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was studying Casey and the guy, but she didn't see any evidence of hurt or anger or jealousy.

"Maybe you weren't ready for it now." She tried to get more involved in the conversation.

"No, I realized that it wasn't meant to be." He turned to look at her, and their eyes locked. "I am a firm believer in fate, and she and I weren't supposed to wind up together." He was studying her face, and Beca was brought back to their conversation in a spot very close to where they were sitting now four years prior. He told her that it was inevitable that they would have aca-children together.

"I don't know if I believe in fate," she whispered, finally breaking their eye contact and looking back down at the party below. "Why would it be fate that Bumper and I became friends?" She joked, taking another sip of her beer, trying to ignore Jesse's stare. "I think we make our own fate, Jesse. I chose to go to LA, and I worked hard to get to the place where I am now. It wasn't fate, but blood, sweat, and tears."

"Why did you break up with your boyfriend? Bumper kept saying that he was an asshole." Jesse said, changing the subject abruptly.

"I realized after a year with him that I didn't love him." She said simply. "I used the excuse of being busy with friends and work for the longest time rather than break things off. Then, I started hanging out with Bumper, and I introduced Eli to him. Bumper told me that Eli was an asshole and that I needed to break up with him, and when I went to actually do it, I caught him in bed with one of the interns at our label. It was really easy to do it after that." She shrugged her shoulders. "I wasn't even upset about it. I just…I was mad more than anything. I gave up a year of my life with that asshole." She didn't elaborate, saying that she wasted getting over her commitment issues on a guy that wasn't worth it. "I just hope that next time, I find the right person."

"You don't believe in the happily ever after," he muttered.

"No, but I believe in hard work." She said, taking a sip of her beer. She glanced at him, and they locked eyes again. "People can change a lot in three years, Jesse." She whispered.

"No more walls?"

"If I can be friends with Bumper who lacks an understanding of boundaries, I think that I am going to be fine with taking down walls with the next relationship I am in." They didn't break eye contact, and Beca shivered, thinking about the possibilities of a relationship with the man beside her.

"I just hope that the next relationship I am is the one that lasts forever." Jesse was testing her; she could tell. He was wondering just how far she was willing to go with commitment.

"I thought you didn't want marriage."

"I don't want it with Casey." He responded. She didn't respond right away. They just stared at each other—Jesse was almost daring her to tell him that marriage is for idiots.

"I don't want to go into my next relationship with high expectations." She said slowly. "While it would be nice that I could find the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with, I think that puts too much pressure on him and me. I think I would rather take it one day at a time, getting to know that person and falling in love with him. I would rather go into it knowing that I was going to try to be myself and see where it takes me." It wasn't exactly what he expected her to say, nor was it what he wanted to hear. "It would be nice to find the person that fills the voids that I have always been left with since my parents divorced."

"Yeah, I remember that you said that hurt you a lot." She broke their eye contact then, knowing he was referencing her letter to him.

"I am sorry that I hurt you, Jesse." She whispered. "I know it doesn't change anything now, but I want to be honest with you now that three years have passed. After I got your message, a huge part of me wondered if I was doing the right thing, running away to LA and giving up on whatever it was that we had between us. But, I decided that I needed to work on myself, because it was true that I was always going to be running away from commitment unless I actually tried to commit to this dream that I had. My dad went to so much trouble trying to help me succeed, so I had to stick that out. I told you that you should move on, because I didn't want to keep hurting you and expecting you to wait around for me to get my shit together. But, I think I should be honest when I tell you that it nearly killed me to write that letter, because I realized that I was in love with you. I just thought that the best way to show you that I loved you was to give you up."

Beca hoped that by being honest with him, she would convince him to give her another try. She knew that he wanted forever now, and she even though she knew that was too much pressure on any relationship that they could have, she knew that if she was able to convince him to be in a relationship with her, it wouldn't just be some rebound after a three-year relationship. After she said that she had loved him, she heard his intake of breath. She didn't dare look at him.

"Beca," he said quietly. She shook her head, not ready to look at him yet. "Look at me, please." She still didn't move. Jesse's hand slid along her jaw, and he carefully raised her face so that their eyes could lock again. "You are over your commitment issues now?"

"I would like to think so." She whispered.

"You are over your ex-boyfriend?"

"He was a waste of time. I don't hurt over our breakup at all."

"You aren't looking for some kind of hookup, right? You want an actual relationship."

"With the right person…yes." Jesse slid a bit of her hair behind her ear.

"Do you still love me?" He whispered. Beca took a deep breath, chewing on her bottom lip some.

"I don't think I ever stopped. I think that I just used my work and eventually Eli as a way to fill the hole I have had since I walked away from you." She said after a few moments. He closed the distance between them then, kissing her hard.

Beca felt breathless and like she was finally breathing for the first time in so long—even more than looking at the pictures had made her feel like she was breathing again. She felt hot and cold, alive and is if she was dying in the sweetest way imaginable. She felt safe and comfortable, too, but at the same time, his kiss was intoxicating and made her feel out of her head—out of control. There were so many conflicting experiences going on, but it felt right. She was finally happy, because she was in his arms, kissing him. His one arm slid around her waist, tugging her closer, while his other hand slipped into her hair, angling her head just how he wanted her to deepen the kiss.

Jesse slid his tongue along her lips, and she immediately allowed him access. She felt like she was on fire the moment their tongues met and began dueling for dominance. The force he used was bruising, almost as if he was angry with her and that he wanted to punish her for walking away all of those years ago. As much as it hurt to be without him, Beca knew that it had been the right thing for her—for him—for them. Because, she wouldn't have been able to do a relationship with him three years ago. She needed to find herself and to grow up. She needed her three years in LA to become the person she was supposed to be with him.

Air soon became a problem, so she pulled away from him, burying her face into his shoulder. She was sure that people were staring at them, most of all Casey. She felt bad then, because Casey loved Jesse, just as she loved him. She felt him grip her hip bone and press kisses to the top of her head, sliding his hand down her back. "We shouldn't have done that." She whispered, pulling away from him. She saw the hurt in his eyes. She laid her fingers over his lips when he opened his mouth to speak, talking before he could get a word out. "We shouldn't have done that here, now." She explained quickly. "We totally made out in front of the girl you broke up with _last night_."

"Shit…yeah, we probably should have waited or something." He glanced over at Casey, who was sitting down on one of the lower benches, crying. "Fuck, she is crying."

"Go talk to her." Beca said after a moment. "We have a ton of time to figure things out, but you only have a few more days to make things right with her before you move to LA." She pressed a light kiss on his lips. "By the way, my next door neighbor is looking for someone to sublet for the last six months of her lease. She and her fiancé are getting married next month, and she would prefer to move into his place sooner rather than later." He grinned, kissing her heatedly, but briefly.

"Six months, huh?" She nodded her head.

"Yeah, I just renewed my year-long lease, so, we could probably work something out when the sublet runs out. I do have a pretty comfy couch." She joked.

"Fuck, Beca…" Jesse kissed her heatedly again, breaking off and standing up. "I don't know how long this is going to take, but don't leave tonight without me, okay?"

"Mr. Swanson, do you really think I am so easy that I will let you have your way with me tonight?"

"I don't have plans on letting you out of my sight for however long I have with you until I move to LA."

"Bumper and I are here until Monday night. I was going to get together with my dad tomorrow and then say goodbye to the girls on Monday at lunch."

"Good, I am coming to spend tomorrow with your dad and to the lunch on Monday." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"When are you flying out to LA?"

"As soon as I can figure out my subletting situation and make plans to have my stuff shipped to LA." Beca stood up with him, wrapping her arm around his neck to press a kiss to his lips.

"Go talk to her." She pulled away from him. "Good luck. I am going to go talk to everyone else." She grimaced.

"Good luck." He repeated.

Beca and Jesse separated then, but for the first time, Beca didn't feel like she was one moment from falling apart. She finally felt happy—at peace, because she had Jesse back. She knew that it wasn't going to be easy, because she was who she was, and they needed to start getting to know each other again, but she meant every word that she had said to him. She was looking forward to getting to know him and taking their relationship one day at a time, working towards a lifetime together. That was all that she could promise at that moment, but in the back of her mind, she knew it would end in forever with him, because being without him for the last three years had nearly killed her, and she didn't have plans on going through that ever again. She wanted Jesse next to her every day for the rest of her life.

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**Can I just say how much I had fun writing the Bumper/Beca friendship? I feel like they would be totally cool with making fun of each other to the other's face, but I think I made it clear that Bumper and Beca would go to the mat for the other if need be. Especially, Bumper-he was totally trying to play matchmaker! Hope you all enjoyed the second part!  
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	4. Quiet (Part I of III)

**Quiet**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Part I of III**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Quiet**_** by Demi Lovato**

**Author's Note: Holy crap, you guys! You all made my day with your reviews. I am so glad that you all enjoyed the Beca/Bumper friendship! I will have to do something with that later on. You guys are too much. I hope that you enjoy them! This one is a little shorter than the others. For the sake of these two-shots, the almost-kiss never happened. This is set before and during that scene. *Revised: Now a three-part storyline**  
**

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Beca Mitchell always built up walls around herself; she pushed people away when they got too close. It began after her parents' divorce, because her mom was crying all of the time and she was suddenly expected to be the mature one—the one who listen and hugged and petted and cooed soft words over and over. She became the adult when she was barely twelve years old. Beca knew that her mom was going through a bad time, and she wanted to help her. She wanted to be the one that fixed her mom's broken heart. But, in the back of her mind, this whole experience showed her just what a farce love really was. If love existed, then her dad wouldn't have left her and her mom. If love existed, then Beca wouldn't spend her evenings for a year holding her mom in her arms as she cried over her failed marriage. If love existed her dad wouldn't have moved on so quickly from her mom and married the she-beast, Sheila. (Okay, so maybe it was three years later, but it was still too soon.)

Things with her dad had never really recovered. Beca was too busy being the mom to her own mother, and she didn't have time to deal with her dad's "it just didn't work out between your mom and me" explanations for why he suddenly decided that he couldn't be married to her mom anymore. She hated him when he tried to text her or call her or email her. He always tried to make plans with her, but it was easier to be mad at him, because he wasn't around anymore. It was easier to blame him when a huge part of her blamed herself. And, yeah, she knew, in the back of her mind, that her parents' problems weren't her fault, but ask any kid with divorced parents, and they will tell you that there is always a part of them that wonders if they had just been a little better or didn't talk back as much or something, then maybe the parentals would still be together. She and her father barely talked, and when it came time for college versus moving to LA, she expected her dad not to care if she packed up all of her stuff and moved across the country. But, he majorly cared. Like, he called and freaked out at her (she hung up on him). Then, he called her mom and freaked out at her (she hung up on him, too). Even though her mom hung up on her dad, she still told Beca that she had to go to college, because she couldn't afford to help her move to LA, and since her dad was refusing to help, there were only two options left. Beca either went to college for free thanks to Dr. Mitchell's tenure at Barden University, or she lived at home and got a couple of part-time jobs until she saved up money to move across the country. She figured that it would be easier to go to school for free and get her dad to help her move across the country when she was done than it would be for her to have to save up everything while living at home. That would take forever. So, Beca was Barden University bound. Thank God her dad taught at a school that had a music production and engineering major, or else she would get absolutely nothing out of four years of her life.

What she didn't expect was that she would join the Bellas and actually _like_ being in an a cappella group. Sure, she had always loved music, but she had always thought musicals were stupid. She thought the show _Glee _was stupid. She thought Broadway was stupid. She thought all of that was stupid. She liked to listen to music, to play with it by making her own remixes, and to lounge around in her pajamas on Sunday afternoons while music was playing in the background, but she didn't use it as a way to work through her feelings or to get a person to fall in love with her or to breakup with someone or any of the other bullshit that is involved in those stupid musical shows and movies and plays. She didn't randomly break out into song in the middle of the hallway. She thought all of that was dumb.

The Bellas weren't like all of those musicals that she made fun of, though. As Aubrey had said on the first day of school, they were just a bunch of ladies singing and dancing in synchronicity. They didn't use the songs they chose (well, Bellas from a decade ago chose the songs) to speak to people. They just sang and danced and tried to win competitions. Beca liked how good the Bellas sounded together. She liked how Fat Amy would make a joke about how Bumper looks like a sausage link or how she has wrestled dingoes and was the only person with teeth where she was from. She liked how Stacie would make a comment about how her vagina—Peter, in case anyone was wondering what _his_ name was (Amy named it)—made her have sex with the gross guy in her introductory English class with a unibrow. (In reality, Beca thinks that girl is a textbook example of a person with a sex addiction.) She even liked saying things that would make Aubrey's eyes get wide, the vein in her neck grow large, and her face get bright red before she had choke back the vomit from the stress she was putting herself under. It was really funny to watch, and poor Chloe would rub her back, whispering the same soothing words Beca used to whisper to her mom after the divorce, "it's going to be okay; everything is going to work out." For the first time in a long time, Beca found herself lowering her defenses. She didn't have a lot of girlfriends, but she found herself wanting to hang out with them when Beca rehearsals were over—she found herself actually wanting to be friends with these girls, which was something totally new for her.

You see, Beca liked boys. She liked boys more because they were easier to deal with. They didn't constantly talk about what celebrity dating who, what style of jeans made her ass look great versus fat, how obnoxious their significant other was for taking them to the wrong type of movie or to McDonalds on their anniversary. She didn't like hearing or talking about all of that bullshit. Even though boys were easier to deal with, Beca didn't have a lot of guy friends, either. She didn't like movies. Sports weren't her cup of tea. She didn't know much about cars and had no interest learning about engines or anything like that. She liked music—any and every kind of music. She liked tattoos. She liked modern art. These were Beca's interests, and there weren't many guys who would be willing to go to a museum with her or talk the intricacies of some band's latest single. They would get bored after awhile, so she spent most of her time in her room mixing songs. Beca certainly didn't do relationships. She barely did dates. No, Beca was like a dude (similar to the way that Peter—Stacie's vagina—was a dude)—she hooked up and moved on when she needed to scratch that itch. In her opinion, romance was dead—or never really existed at all.

That all changed, though, when Beca got to Barden. The first time she saw Jesse she had just gotten out of the taxi, wanting those last few moments of freedom before being trapped under her father's thumb. He was acting like a total asshole, leaning out the car window, serenading her. Did he seriously get dates that way? She tried to keep her amusement off of her face—she couldn't encourage a dweeb like him; she was _not_ interested. The second time she saw Jesse—this time actually speaking to him—was in the radio station. He made jokes about how they were bound to become lovers and that she better tap that before he became too busy for her, because he was definitely going to become a Treblemaker. Again, he amused her—he was confident (dare she say cocky?) in his ability to woo her. More than anything, she thought he was a total nerd, a real cheese ball. He was the dorky kind of cute that made girls blush—if Beca was a girl like that. But, she wasn't. So, she thought he was an idiot, and she told him as much.

Beca spent much of their first three shifts together (on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from two-thirty to six in the evening) at the radio station ignoring him. He would make jokes about Luke's overly-muscular physique (according to Jesse, Luke was compensating for a small penis by building up all of those muscles, or he was on steroids to help him get and stay fit, which resulted in the shriveling and shrinking of the British man's testicles) or about how he was actually living out his lifelong dream of stacking CDs. No matter what he did, though, Beca barely cracked a smile for those first three days. (Sometimes it was hard, because he was just that much of an idiot that she felt the need to laugh in his face, but somehow she found the strength to restrain herself.) Eventually, he got the message that she wasn't interested in his idle chitchat when she started listening to her mixes on her phone.

The third time Beca actually spoke to Jesse was when they were at hood night. He was drunk by the time that she had gotten there with the other Bellas for their aca-initiation. He was climbing over the outdoor benches like a uncoordinated monkey. She actually became concerned for his well-being when she saw him making his way towards her, holding a beer in one hand and calling out her name several times before making it into some kind of bird call. Beca figured that she would appease Jesse just this once by providing some light conversation this time around. (He was probably too drunk to remember it in the morning, so it wouldn't be encouraging for him.) It was the first time that she touched him, too, and she was surprised by the shiver that ran down her spine when her fingers grazed his chest. She didn't understand what all that was about, but she let him getting her a drink. Once again, he climbed his way down the benches rather than using the stairs like a normal person would. She hoped that he was careful, though, because she didn't want to have his maiming or death on her conscience.

The Monday following hood night at the radio station, Beca didn't wear her headphones. Jesse noticed, but he only chatted with her occasionally, making some asinine comments about the songs that Luke was playing or about when the last time the desk had been disinfected. He primarily sang along with the music and made faces at her over the records or CDs. Wednesday and Friday followed suit, with Jesse gradually increasing the amount of conversation towards her. She was still her snarky, bitchy self, but he didn't seem to mind and gave it back to her almost as good as she gave it to him. It was getting harder and harder for Beca not to laugh at his stupid jokes or child-like comments about the beauty of the Beatles and how the Biebs is really misunderstood as an artist and an icon.

One Tuesday morning, Beca came out of her math class that began at eight in the morning to find Jesse walking up holding a coffee in one hand and a paper bag with a blueberry muffin inside of it in the other. She was miserable, because whoever decided to have a required math general education course at eight in the morning should be water-boarded or electrocuted or something, because they are obviously fascists or the spawn of Satan or something. She was never more relieved in her life to see him (more accurately, his coffee), and she latched onto it like a newborn latches onto the breast. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she moaned in appreciation, sipping the heavenly liquid like her life depended on it. She ignored his chuckles and dug into the bag for what had to be the best looking and smelling blueberry muffin in the world. (She didn't know how he knew that blueberry muffins were her favorite, or that she liked her coffee black with only one creamer cup in it, but that is something that she would ask him some other time.) She mumbled her thank you around the mouthful of blueberry deliciousness, making him crinkle his nose in disgust. It turned into a thing for them—every Tuesday and Thursday morning, she would leave her class to find him waiting for her with a coffee and a muffin. (He tried a scone once, but she pouted like a child and made him walk her to the amazing coffee shop where he got her breakfast in the morning to buy her a blueberry muffin instead; she was surprised to learn that it was _not _Starbucks, but some mom-and-pop coffee shop just off-campus. He ate the scone and agreed that muffins are way better.)

Beca didn't know what to say when Jesse threw a juice pouch at her and sat down next to her on the quad. She had been listening to her music and trying to focus on her assigned reading on Aristotle's expostulations about life, which she found to be completely boring and made her wonder _why_ anyone would be interesting in majoring in all this philosophical bullshit. She was definitely not an existentialist, she had determined after taking this dumb class. He laid the towel down next to her, pulling a candle (what?), a box of pretzels, and a stack of movies from his bag, all the while talking about how much he enjoys stacking CDs with her, but he thought that they could do something more fun. Beca made a jab at his obvious lack of game in terms of relationships by saying that his girlfriend must love him and then pretended to be shocked when Jesse said that he didn't have one. His reaction to her confession about not liking movies was comical, and she had to admit, she was curious what this movication would be like. She didn't know why, but she was finding him more and more charming, and it was making her feel strange.

Beca tried to ignore the weird twinges in her stomach when Jesse directed lines of the songs at the Riff-Off towards her, which only made Aubrey more pissed and her more uncomfortable with the attention he was giving her. She didn't do relationships, and she really had no interest in pursuing him. She was honestly flattered by his attention towards her—that is all. It was amusing, more than anything. She knew that eventually she would have to set the record straight, but for now, she was going to let him flirt his ass off in the nerdiest of ways. It was just fun, right?

Somehow, their Tuesday-Thursday breakfast tradition turned into Beca commenting about how hungry she was after one of their Friday shifts ended at the radio station. Jesse responded that he could eat. They were the last ones to leave, putting away the final crate of CDs and records from the Thursday and Friday shows. They walked to a little pizza shop off-campus. Beca told him how much she loved pizza, but hated fast-food, because the burgers always tasted like cardboard. Jesse told her that his favorite diner to eat at was in his hometown, and it was themed around a fifties-era malt and burger shop. According to him, she hadn't _lived_ (or eaten a good burger) until she ate a burger from that diner, and the milkshakes were beyond amazing, too.

This, too, turned into a tradition. They would be the last to leave the radio station in the evenings, and they would walk to the pizza shop or the dining hall or a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Jesse would walk her home at night, and Beca could tell that that he was always hoping that she would invite him in. While she figured that he would be up for sex if she offered, she knew that it wasn't sex what he was looking for. He was hoping that she would drop all of her walls and let him kiss her—to show that she was interested in him the same way that he was interested in her. Beca couldn't do that, though. She didn't want a relationship; she didn't want the farce that people refer to as love. She couldn't ruin what they had by turning it into something she was so sure didn't exist. She would give Jesse a sad smile and tell him that she would see him later; she would ignore the look of disappointment that flashed over his face for a moment before he slid his goofy, happy mask back into place. Sometimes he would ruffle her hair with his hand before dodging her punch and making his way down the hall and out of her building. (She also would ignore the way that her heart would beat a little bit faster when he would hesitate by her door every time he walked her home. Or, the way that it would take her forever to fall asleep that night, because her stomach would churn as she would remember the disappointment on his face.)

One Friday night during their dinner, Jesse asked her about the flash drives that she was always giving to Luke. Beca told him that she made her own mixes of songs, and she was giving him copies in case Luke ever wanted to play one of them on the radio. The next night, she was relieved that Kimmie Jin decided to go to one of her friends' room for once, so she could mix to her heart's content without being forced to wear her headphones or to feel the looks of disdain that came from her roommate for disturbing the Korean bonding. The Bellas had off for once, because Chloe's nodes were hurting her worse than ever, and Aubrey's parents were in town for the weekend. The knock on her door made her jump nearly three feet into the air. (She was sure that she actually levitated for a moment.) Beca hadn't been expecting anyone that night, so she wasn't sure who would be knocking on her door then. She paused the music and made her way to the door, opening it hesitantly. She found herself laying her eyes on the grinning face of Jesse, and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

Jesse wanted to hear her music, but he was clutching his laptop against his chest, and she didn't know why. Beca showed her the latest mix she was working on, and then rolled her eyes when he pulled a copy of _The Breakfast Club_ out of the thin air, telling her that he wanted to watch her watch the end of it, claiming that he would die a hero. She rolled her eyes at him, thinking for what was probably the ten-thousandth time that he was such a nerd. She watched him get comfortable in her bed, getting the movie ready in his laptop. Beca needed to get some semblance of control back, so she commented on his ability to make himself at home no matter where he was before reluctantly making her way to sit down on the other side of his laptop on her bed. (She was a little miffed that he got to snuggle up in her pillows, while she was forced to sit without anything to lean on.)

Beca was simultaneous thankful of the fact that Jesse turned out the light (so he wouldn't see her blush—she seemed to be blushing a lot more around him lately) and uncomfortable (because she didn't _like_ that she was blushing around him more). She settled down beside him, resting her eyes on the screen of his laptop. He told her all about how Billy Idol was an idiot for giving up the song and how perfect the ending was for the movie, so she had to make fun of him and his obsessive knowledge of all things _Breakfast Club_ related, to which he responded with gross comments about morning dumps. His "fun" facts were not actually fun at all, in her opinion, and she told him as much.

Beca found herself watching him more than the ending of the movie. She couldn't help it, because Jesse was mouthing the words and so very into it. It wasn't until that moment that she allowed herself to feel the things that she had been forcing down for so long since she had met him. His eyes would stray towards her, knowing that she wasn't paying attention to the movie. She couldn't help the small smile that slipped onto her lips when she saw him making a fist to go with the movie. He turned to face her then, telling her that she was missing the movie.

"Sorry," Beca said, turning to finally face the screen again, but Jesse watched her this time. She casually glanced at him, wondering if this was the moment when he was finally going to make his move. While a huge portion of her still wanted to keep up her walls around herself, because there is no such thing as love, another large part of her wanted him to finally grow a pair and to kiss her. It was completely silent aside from the movie playing, and they stared each other down for a few moments before their eyes began to migrate south to the other's lips. Beca couldn't think straight. Her mind was a swirling black hole of conflicting thoughts. Half of her brain was telling her that if Jesse _didn't_ kiss her, she was going to kill him and chop his body up into pieces so that he was never found. The other half of her mind was screaming that if he _did_ kiss her, she was going to kill him and chop up his body so that no one would ever be able to find him. She tried to tell herself that it was the lust that was controlling the half of her brain that wanted him to kiss her, because it had been over three months since she had hooked up with anyone. Beca just needed to get that itch scratched, but it couldn't be with Jesse, because that would complicate things too much. He didn't make a move though, and she knew that he was waiting for her to do it. He was always waiting for her to make the first move, because he didn't want to pressure her too much. He was just that kind of guy. (What he didn't know was that he was going to wait forever.)

Beca was partially relieved that he didn't make a move, because she didn't do relationships. Jesse was definitely a relationship-guy, and she wasn't that kind of girl. He had been working so hard to gradually break down her walls until she felt comfortable talking with him, hanging out with him, and sharing personal things about her life with him, so he wasn't going to just immediately fall into bed with her and be fine with just the occasional hookup. He was looking for the hand holding, kissing each other goodnight after a date, snuggling on a blanket out on the quad, bringing her flowers and candies on Valentine's Day kind of guy. His brow pinched, and she knew that he was having some big internal battle about whether or not he should throw caution to the wind and kiss her, rather than waiting for her to do it, but he held back—he waited, hoping that she would be the one to drop the final walls and let him in.

She looked away from him then, turning to the computer to pause the movie. "I…uh…it's good. I'm sure the beginning was—" Beca broke off, because the door opened then, and Kimmie Jin was coming in with a couple of her friends. She could tell that Jesse was confused beside her—disappointed—maybe even hurt that she didn't kiss him (or at least imply that a kiss would not be unwelcomed). She was flustered, jumping up and moving away from the bed to her desk again, running her hands through her hair.

"And, I'm out," he said, closing his laptop and grabbing the empty DVD case from the bed. He stood up, grabbing his laptop and the case into his hands. He made his goodbyes, giving her one final look before walking away.

Beca sat down at her desk, sliding her headphones over her ears and began to work on her mixes. She kept raising the volume of the music, trying to drown out the thoughts in her head. For some reason, she was finding it impossible to quiet them down.

* * *

**Author's Note 2: I know you guys are bummed, but I promise the next chapter will more than make up for it, though. For the next part of this two-shot set, imagine that everything happened as it did in the movie, except at the end, there was no kiss. The song was just a way for Beca to show him that she missed him as a friend, and instead of kissing him, she apologized for being an ass and pushing him away. She also asked him if they could go back to being friends again. I hoped that you liked this one. I recommend that you listen to this song, because it is awesome! I am hoping to have part II out by the afternoon! XOXOXO**


	5. Distance (Part II of III)

**Distance**

**A **_**Picture Perfect **_**Story**

**Part II of III**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Distance**_** by Christina Perri ft. Jason Mraz**

**Author's Note: So, I was looking for song inspirations for a story where I could use a cool idea that I have in mind for these awesome characters, and I came across this one. It is so pretty and plays into the will they/won't they feel that **_**Quiet **_**left off on, so I had to make it into a 3-part short story. This is to set up for the next chapter. I hope that you like it. Also, so many of you are requesting that I add more parts to the last set. I will look at the songs I have and try to see if anyone of them would work with that storyline.**

**So, in order to help me out with the idea that keeps rolling around in my head, I am asking you guys to leave reviews with some of your favorite songs. I will check them out and see if I can get anything from them to start writing the idea out that I have. I think it is totally creative and awesome, but I need something to write about. I mean, yeah, obviously it is going to be about Jesse and Beca falling in love, but I still need to have more to it than that. Uggh, it is killing me, so please help!?**

**And, so it begins…grad school semester two has started, so that means I will have less time to work on new chapters and therefore longer stretches of time between updates. =[ **

* * *

Beca used the ICCA Finals competition as a grand gesture of friendship towards Jesse after she took out her anger and frustration towards Aubrey (and herself) on him. Things are a little weird between them, but they gradually got back to how things were between them before. He became her only source of relaxation when final started, and she had no idea what happened in any of her classes second semester. She literally felt like she was going to go insane several times, but he helped her to stay calm and helped her make study guides and things like that to study (despite the fact that he had his own classes that he needed to study for). To thank him when they were officially done finals, she bought him dinner and allowed him to pick out his three favorite movies to watch for a movication night before they had to pack up their rooms and start moving out the next day. They were going to be exhausted, but she wanted to show him how much she appreciated him and his kindness and his friendship. She tried to ignore the way her heartbeat really fast when they sat beside each other on his bed, his laptop set up on his desk chair next to the bed as they shared a bowl of popcorn. Benji had left several days before, because he was lucky enough to have all of his finals scheduled for early on in the week.

Beca shifted slightly when a ray of sunlight came through the window directly into her face. She groaned, rolling onto her side and burying her face further into her…pillow? She opened her eyes to find herself face to…chest? Crap! She had fallen asleep on top of Jesse during their movication the night before? She carefully moved her head to study his face; he was sleeping peacefully with one of his arms wrapped around her back and the other palm-side up on the bed beside him. Beca saw that he was dreaming, by the way that his lips and fingers twitched; the hand that was wrapped around her pressed into her back, and she saw his face visibly relax even more. She wondered what he was dreaming about right then. She carefully slipped from beneath his arm, watching as the hand that had been lying on her lower back fell closed into a fist and a slight frown furrowed his brow and settled on his lips. She wondered if he was dreaming about her. She closed her eyes, trying to stop herself from thinking thoughts like that.

Beca glanced at her phone, which was still in the pocket of her jeans, seeing that it was nearly nine in the morning. She cursed silently, knowing that her dad and step-mom were going to be meeting her at eleven. She had planned on getting up at seven and being completely packed by the time they got there so that she could limit the amount of time that they got there. She quickly texted her dad, telling him that her friend wanted to get lunch for one last time before they didn't see each other for the summer and asking to push back his and Sheila's arrival until one-thirty. That would give her enough time to get back to her room, shower, and get mostly packed before their arrival. She glanced at Jesse again, who was still sleeping with a frown on his face. His frown was deeper than it had been a few moments before.

Beca took the moment to wonder what it would have been like if she had let her walls down all of those months ago when she and Jesse had first started the movications in her room; what if she had let him kiss her or she had kissed him. Would they still be together now? Would they be falling in love (if there really was such a thing, which there wasn't…not at all.)? Would they have broken up and not be speaking? She was afraid that they would have broken up, or their kiss wouldn't have gone anywhere, or their friendship would have been messed up somehow, which only further solidified her assumption that friendship between the two of them was for the best. She tried to ignore the small part of her that wanted to just throw all of that bullshit out of the window and to just give up, accepting that she had developed some non-platonic feelings for him and to hope like hell that he felt the same way towards her after all these months. She stood up carefully, not wanting to disturb him. Beca didn't want to think those thoughts about Jesse. They were better off as friends. She slid her feet into her shoes, making her way toward the door of his room. She hesitated for a moment, leaning over to press a light kiss against his forehead.

"Have a good summer, Jesse." Beca whispered as she pulled away. "You are one of my best friends, you know that? I know that you wanted more than that…maybe you still want more than that, but I can't do that. I love you too much to lose my best friend." It was the truth; she did love him, but she kept telling herself that she the love she felt for him was strictly a friendship-kind of love, not a romantic love. Those small crush feelings that she had (like the butterflies she would feel when their hands would brush as they both went for the popcorn or something) were nothing; they would only hurt their friendship if they acted on them. She didn't know how long she could stay friends with him if she felt those weird feelings, though. She didn't want things to be complicated between them. She quickly made her way to the door, telling herself that she would text him later.

* * *

Beca felt strange as she pulled the box from her dad's car in front of her new residence hall, Martin Hall. She and Lilly were going to room together this year. Beca had made a joke to Lilly and Amy when they were skyping over the summer (their only way to really stay in contact with Amy while she was back in Tasmania), "another year, another Asian." Amy laughed so hard that she snorted and soda came out her nose. "At least this year, you will actually talk to me, Lilly, unlike Kimmie Jin."

"I will show you my cockroach collection. You can have the babies to start your own." After Lilly had started speaking at a normal volume with them just before the ICCA Finals last spring, the Bellas now found that they couldn't _stop_ her from speaking at a normal volume. That meant that they actually heard all of the weird shit that she had to say.

"Um, that's okay. How about you leave the cockroach collection at home, okay?" Beca said, while Amy started making gagging noises and threatened to come nowhere near their room. She was already going to have to deal with pests in the form of the STDs that would be living in hers and Stacie's beds from the amount of sex that they were going to be having. Beca grimaced when she heard Amy say that. "You two are foul."

Beca and her dad unloaded all of Beca's stuff into the room rather quickly. She shooed him from her room, saying that she needed to quickly unpack and get down to the activities fair to start handing out flyers to random girls in the hopes that they would audition for that year. Lilly's stuff was already set up on her bed, but she hadn't unpacked yet. Beca decided to do the same, rushing to the activities fair to set up the table with the rest of the girls. She grinned when she saw Amy, Cynthia, Lilly, Stacie, Denise, Jessica, and Ashley set up the table, hung the banner, and then stocked the table with plenty of snacks and flyers.

"What's up, aca-bitches?" Beca asked when she made it to the table. They all screamed in excitement, pulling her into a group hug. She glanced around, seeing that the table was set up closer to the stairs where the Treblemakers always stood. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking away from the group of men in maroon sweatshirts.

"You still haven't talked to him since finals week last year?" Lilly said quietly next to her; she didn't quite whisper like she did when they first met each other, but she was keeping her volume down out of respect for Beca's discomfort talking about her feelings with other people.

"I…it is for the better, right? We are on opposing teams."

"I thought that we all agreed that we were going to throw out the no-Treble rule this year." Lily said, cocking an eyebrow at the brunette girl who was fiddling with the spike in her ear.

"Well, yeah, I am not going to force the girls not to be with people that they want to be with, as long as they remember to keep the set lists a secret and to not let the guys psyche them out before a competition. But, I am not going to stand in anyone's way. We are the new Bellas. We are revamped, including girls that don't fit that cookie-cutter mold that the other Bellas were forced to fit into; we are including music with broad tastes. Don't get me wrong, I love ABBA or Ace of Base as much as the next girl, but I also like a lot of other music, too, just like everyone else likes different kinds of music. The whole point of the new Bellas is to let everyone shine—including their interests. I am not going to deny them their romantic interests, either."

"But, you are denying someone's romantic interests…" Lilly said in a sing-songy voice before she walked over to the rest of group. Beca frowned, shaking her head, not wanting to think about what the Asian girl was trying to imply.

"So, what should we sing?" Amy asked Beca. "I could do some pirate dancing to get the real hot bitches interested." She smirked and winked at a guy that walked by. "And, find a pirate who will plunder my booty tonight."

"Eww." Beca muttered.

"Should we do last year's Finals number?" Stacie asked as she readjusted her shirt, oblivious to the stares she was getting from the guys at the table across from them.

"No!" Beca said quickly, and everyone turned to look at her. "I just mean that we don't have Chloe's bass anymore, so…"

"Right," Denise said. "What about _Just the Way You Are_ and _Just A Dream_ remix that we did last year? Stacie could take Chloe's solo? And we can layer Lilly with you where Aubrey came in with you."

"Yeah, that would be great." Beca said, nodding her head. "I will count us in." She quickly counted in, conducting the beat with her hand and indicating to Stacie to begin. While they sang, people stopped by to listen, unlike the years in the past when most people would ignore the Trebles when they sang. They finished the last line and grinned at each other.

"Ladies, that was _magical_." They heard behind them, and they noticed that the returning Trebles had wandered over, including Jesse. She didn't look at him, though; she just focused her attention on Benji, smiling at his reference.

"I take it you are going to serenade us with you performance from the Finals competition last year?" She asked him. Then, she smiled, remembering that magic was Benji's thing. "Oh, are you going to do a magic trick for us? I missed your magic this summer, Benji!" She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

"See, Jesse! I told you that magic is a chick-magnet." Benji laughed, releasing Beca from the hug and turning to face his roommate and best friend.

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, Benji." Jesse said, and she carefully looked at him, standing a few feet away with a couple of the other Trebles. "Beca," he said, nodding his head at her in greeting.

Beca felt like couldn't breathe for a second. Even though he was about five feet away from her, she already felt breathless, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to breathe at all if he was any closer. She licked her bottom lip, flashing him a small smile. "Hi, Jesse," she said quickly, before turning her attention back to Benji. "We should get lunch. You can tell me all about your crazy summer of fun." She winked at him. "At magic camp."

"Ha ha, Beca." Benji said, rolling his eyes. "I would love to get lunch." He leaned over to speak quietly in her ear. "You can tell me all about why you are avoiding Jesse." She looked down, shaking her head.

"I'm not." She said quickly. She felt the eyes of both Benji and Jesse on her, but she was aware that the latter was in the middle of a conversation with several Bellas and Trebles and trying to appear like he wasn't interested in what she and Benji were saying, whereas the former's eyes were staring so intently into her face that she was afraid that he was going to be able to see right through her. Actually, she didn't know which was scarier: Jesse knowing that she was spooked to be around him or Benji knowing that she was spooked to be around Jesse.

"Do I look stupid?" He asked. Beca just stared at him for a moment before she reached up and tugged on the cape that was dangling from his neck. He rolled his eyes, pulling her hand away and squeezing it lightly. "Beca, what happened with you two?"

"Excuse me, but are you the one who can tell me about the…um…Bellas?" Beca looked up to see a curly-haired platinum blonde standing a few feet away with her arms crossed, her hips shifted to the left, and her right foot tapping. Beca's eyes widened when recognition flooded her face.

"Carrie!?" She said, shocked.

"Wow, Beca, is that you? I hardly recognized you. Look at all of those tattoos." Carrie grimaced slightly. "It has been so long!"

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you move…" The blonde walked over to Beca, pulling her into a light hug, pressing a kiss on both of her cheeks.

"It is so great to see you, Beca." She said, releasing her and smiling flirtatiously at Benji. "Hi, I'm Carrie. I went to high school with Beca."

"I'm Benji. I am a Treblemaker and a friend of Beca's."

"So, I thought you had plans to move to New York City, Carrie." Beca said, crossing her arms to glare at the blonde.

"Well, I spent a year in the city, and it was amazing, but I decided that I just had to go to college. Your mom told my mom about how much you love it here in Atlanta and at Barden, so I decided I just had to check it out. This is a really great campus, and there are so many cute guys." Carrie said, biting her lip and taking in the group of Trebles. Beca tried to ignore the way her heart beat even faster when Carrie's eyes lingered on Jesse.

"So, you are interested in joining the Bellas?" Beca said hesitantly.

"Yeah, I was thinking about it. Your mom said that your a cappella group won last year." Carrie smiled at Beca, twirling a curl around her finger. "I just had to check it out."

"Well, the Bellas are great. I had a lot of fun last year, and I made friends with all of the girls."

"And, you get to see so many attractive guys," Carrie said, her eyes locked on Jesse's form. Beca gave the girl a tight smile. Benji reached out and gripped her finger tips. She glanced at him briefly, shaking her head slightly.

"Well, if you want to be a Bella, you can't date a Treble, sorry." Lilly said as she laid a hand on Beca's shoulder.

"Excuse me?" Carrie said with her eyes narrowed as she stared at Amy. "Says who?"

"Says Barden University Bellas tradition." Lilly said. Beca ignored the shocked looks on the Trebles' faces as they took in the exchange with Beca, Lilly, and Carrie. "Right, ladies?"

"What's that Amy?" Stacie asked.

"Bellas have to take an oath every year saying that they will not have sexual relations with a Treble." Lilly said loudly enough so that the rest of the girls would look at her.

"I thought we were going to throw that rule out." Amy pouted.

"Yeah, I told you all last year that he's a hunter, but I didn't want my vocal chords ripped out by wolves, so I was good last year. I don't know if I can go another year again." Stacie muttered, flashing a smile at Unicycle.

"You guys can't be serious! Vocal chords being ripped out by wolves? Like that would never happen." Carrie said, rolling her eyes. Beca's jaw tensed.

"None of us believe that wolves would actually tear out our vocal chords, Carrie." Beca said tersely. "But two girls got kicked out the first practice after Hood Night, so we all followed the tradition." Beca's eyes locked with Jesse's from where he was standing a few feet away. She glanced away from him, looking Carrie firmly in the eye. "But, we agreed last year, as a group, that we were going to throw that tradition out. So, Carrie, if after the auditions two months from now, you are a Bella, you can have a relationship with whomever you choose, including the Trebles." Beca turned back to the girls. "Ladies, I think I am going to go unpack. Benji, how about lunch tomorrow?"

"Sounds good, Beca."

"Aww, is he your boyfriend, Beca?" Carrie said sweetly, twirling her hair again. "You two make such a cute couple."

"Beca and I are just friends." Benji said.

"That's what they all say," she smiled.

"I will see you tomorrow, Benji." Beca said, ignoring Carrie. "Bye, girls. Bye, Benji. Carrie." Beca said. She turned away from them, glancing at Jesse briefly. "Bye, everyone."

* * *

The next day, Beca knocked on the door to Jesse and Benji's room. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The door swung open, and she was suddenly face to face with Jesse. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt like her heart was going to burst right out of her chest. She gave him a small smile. "Hi," she said quietly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." He studied her for a few moments, and Beca still hadn't had a proper breath. Her hands were shaking, so she quickly put them behind her back, trying to hide it. She was trying her hardest not to hug him or to run away; she wasn't sure which one she wanted to do more. "How was your summer?" She closed her eyes for a moment and took a shallow breath.

"Horrible…" She said finally. She was looking down as she said it, and she felt his eyes on hers. Her palms were damp, so she brushed them against the front of her jeans. "I am sure you are happy to hear that, but I am not lying. It was horrible."

"Why would I be happy to hear that you had a horrible summer?" He asked her, and she looked up at him in shock. "I don't want you to be unhappy, Beca."

Beca frowned, shaking her head. "I am sorry that I left." She whispered. "It was a mistake. You were my friend, and I left without saying goodbye. I never responded to any of your texts or calls." She chewed on her bottom lip. "I was a bad friend, and I hurt you. I'm sorry." Jesse studied her. "I thought that I had gotten over the walls that I have built up around myself, but I didn't. For some reason, it is always you that I am hurting. I think it would be better if we didn't try to be friends, though." Beca looked away from him again. "I won't hurt you then."

"What if I don't want that? What if I want to be friends?"

"I will keep running away every time we get closer again. I will constantly be pushing you away. It is easier to keep my friendships at superficial levels."

"Does that mean you and Benji have a superficial friendship?" She shrugged her shoulders. They were quiet for a few moments. "I know that you have trouble with being close to people. I accept that." He paused. "We shouldn't be friends, but I miss you, Beca." She shook her head. "Maybe it will be easier this time?"

"Why? I am only going to run again."

"Exactly. I am going into this knowing that you are probably going to run again, so if you do, I won't be as disappointed, and it would probably be easier for me to stay away next time." Beca's brow furrowed.

"That is stupid, Jesse. You are always going to be looking for a sign that I am going to bail on our friendship again. It is going to get me into my head, constantly looking for any hint that I want to bail again. It is going to mess everything up even before we get back to the level we were last year. I don't want to have to go through with that. I will tell Benji that the next time he and I meet up, we will have to do it elsewhere." She looked down at her hands. "Is he here?"

"Yeah, he is." Jesse said after a moment. "Fine, I am going to go to class. I will see you around, Beca." She nodded her head, watching him grab his schoolbag before he pushed past her and walked away.

"Bye, Jesse. I love you too much to keep hurting you." She whispered. She closed her eyes for a moment and stepped into his room.

"Hey," Benji said from where he was seated on the bed. He had a textbook in his lap and headphones in his ears that were plugged into his laptop. "You just got here?"

"Um, a few minutes ago."

"Oh, shit…was their bloodshed?" She shook her head.

"Nope. We just can't meet here anytime in the future, Benji."

"What is wrong with you two?" He asked as he closed the laptop and then his textbook. "I just don't understand you two at all. You guys were great friends last year, so why did you guys keep fighting." Beca shrugged her shoulders. "Does it have anything to do with that oath?"

"No!" She shook her head. "I don't know." She muttered, dropping onto his bed. "I am screwed up, Benji. I am a mess, and I am broken. I hurt everyone who tries to get really close to me. Friendships are complicated enough with me, and when there is the possibility of a romantic relationship? I run even faster. I always knew that he had feelings for me, you know? There was always a small part of me that wondered if there might be more between us than friendship, and then it spooked me. I freak out, I push people away, and then when I realize what I have done and begin to miss the friend that I lost, I try to pull them back in, only to have it happen all over again. I am a mess, Benji." She shook her head, burying her face into her hands. "He keeps trying to make it work—be friends, take me back after I bolt. I keep waiting for him to finally snap and to either tell me he has feelings for me or to kiss me or something, which only gets me antsy. So, I am trying to stay away from him. I can't keep screwing this up between us. I can't keep hurting him."

"So, you would rather hurt him now by staying away from him?"

"This way he can find someone else who actually has a function head or actually isn't fucked up. Someone who is actually capable of caring for him back in the way that he wants and deserves. I am not going to keep stomping all over him anymore." She ran a hand through her hair. "He was my best friend, Benji, and because I care about him so much, I am staying away from him so that I don't hurt him anymore."

"That doesn't make sense, Beca."

"It does to me, because I have been living it since I was twelve years old."


	6. The Only Exception (Part III of III)

**The Only Exception**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Part III of III**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**The Only Exception**_** by Paramore**

**Author's Note: First of all, I apologize for all of the horrendous grammatical/spelling mistakes in the last chapter. I NEVER SHOULD WRITE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! Seriously, I reread it and it was awful! Seriously, I am beyond sorry. Second, I am sorry about the delay. I got so wrapped up in my other **_**Pitch Perfect**_** story that I let this one go. Super sorry about that, too. I am such a weirdo and love patterns, so there will be a pattern for how these one-shots and multi-shots go. Pattern is as follows: One-shot, two-shot, three-shot, one-shot, and repeat. See how much of a nerd I am? So, without further ado, here is the last chapter of the first three-shot storyline. Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you like it!  
**

* * *

Beca was pretty pissed off to see that Carrie auditioned to be in the Bellas. She had a killer voice, of course, and the body of a model, so every one of the Bellas (except Beca and Lilly) wanted her in the group. The entire time she auditioned (why did Beca agree to Rihanna's _We Found Love_ as the audition song), Carrie was practically having eye-sex with Jesse. The girl was smart enough to vary up her eye contact with the rest of the Trebles, especially Benji, since she thought that was going to get to Beca. The brunette definitely had no plans on ever correcting that assumption, because Carrie's interest in Jesse would only triple when she found out that he and Beca had a complicated friendship-thing.

After the auditions, the Bellas spent two hours arguing over who should be allowed into the group. Beca knew that Madonna-lovers a cappella group would have contacted Carrie, as well, but if there was a choice between the Bellas and the B-Harmonics, it was hands down the Bellas that people would choose. Beca and Lilly were adamant about Carrie not being in the Bellas, but it was half-hearted on both of their parts. Putting Beca and Carrie's history aside, as well as Carrie's interest in Jesse, she would make a great addition to the Bellas. She could sing, she could dance—she would bring in a shit ton of money at a bikini car wash because she had a nice wrack that possibly rivaled Stacie's.

"I just don't understand why you are pulling an Aubrey, Beca!" Denise said, crossing her arms. "I mean, Carrie is perfect for the Bellas. We could win again this year with her voice." Beca sighed, burying her face into her hands. Lilly patted her upper back supportively.

"I've known Carrie since elementary school. She is the mean girl that you all knew and hated." Beca said finally. She ran a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, well, we need to fill two spots. Only three people could sing. One of them had a penis." Amy said, grinning suggestively as she fanned herself. "My God that boy was beyond fuckable." She added. Beca rolled her eyes. "We already agreed that Molly girl was the other freshman we were going to pick, but we need Carrie."

"Fine." Beca said, shaking her head. "She can join, but if she starts to say shitty things to all of you, that is your business. Deal with yourselves and don't come running to me to kick her out of the group. I'm not going to be the bitch this year, so you are going to have to fight your own battles this time around." She stood up and stormed toward the door, ignoring their surprised gasps and mutterings. "I will see you later for initiation tonight. Stacie, put Peter to use and get us some wine for tonight." She marched out the door, texting Benji that she needed to talk to him.

* * *

An hour later, Beca found herself lying in Benji's bed on her side, his pillow tucked beneath her head, half asleep as he sat at his desk doing homework. He was in his boxers, a gray t-shirt, and his cape, reading about ancient Rome or something. She had borrowed his iPod and his Trebles sweatshirt jacket and a pair of his sweatpants to get more comfortable. She was warm, listening to his rather eclectic sampling of music. She opened her eyes, studying him. He had the cap of a highlighter in between his teeth, hunched over his textbook. "You are my best friend." She told him suddenly, making him jump. He recapped his highlighter and turned to face her.

"You're my best friend, too." Benji smiled at her. "Well, my best friend that is a girl," he said, scratching the back of his neck. Beca nodded, knowing that he meant Jesse was his other best friend. She pulled the earphones from her ears, stopping the song she had been listening to. She sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees, which were pressed against her chest. "Want to talk about whatever is bothering you?"

"Carrie is a bitch." She said simply. "How did auditions go for you guys?"

"Well, we picked that Josh guy. He was awesome." She nodded her head in agreement. "Then, there was that Tom guy—Jesse said that he thought we could work with him to get him into top shape. We all agreed." Benji looked guilty at mentioning Jesse's name. He was generally a taboo subject between the two of them. The only reason Beca was here right now was because she knew that Jesse had class and a shift at the radio station. (Luke had been "surprisingly" fine [read: completely pleased with the idea] with Beca and Jesse not wanting to work shifts together.) "That isn't what is bothering you, though." Beca frowned, knowing that Benji had gotten surprisingly good at reading her the last two months that they had gotten really close.

"It is." She insisted. "The Bellas don't get that she is toxic. All they see is a pretty blonde with a good voice."

"And, they didn't notice that she is interested in Jesse." Benji added. Beca's jaw tensed, and she looked away. "I don't get you. You both are totally into each other, but you insist on keeping your distance from each other. It is pretty stupid." She glanced back at him, her brow furrowed.

"I'm not into him."

"Bullshit." She sighed, rolling her eyes at his serious face. She really didn't want to talk to him about it. "C'mon, Beca; tell me what's got you so scared."

Beca was quiet for a few minutes. She felt her eyes tear up, so she looked away from him, staring into space, which happened to be the door to his and Jesse's room. She wiped at the single tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. She hated showing her emotions like this. She didn't do tears, and she definitely didn't want to start crying around Benji. It would only solidify his opinion that Beca wanted Jesse. Which, she didn't. Like at all. Okay, so maybe she felt a little something for him, but she didn't want to admit it to herself. After a moment, Beca decided to speak. "Love doesn't exist, Benji. There isn't a person out there that is going to complete me or whatever all those bullshit movies Jesse likes to watch like to spout. I don't believe in any of it. There is lust. There is friendship. There is family. Hell, that doesn't even work well at all. That is all there is. Nothing good comes from trying to force you or another person to be together for the rest of your lives. There is nothing but heartache and frustration."

"You really are jaded at nineteen, huh?" Benji said as he stood up and walked over to sit on the bed beside Beca. He took her hand in his, and she laid her head against his shoulder. She wiped at another tear that slipped down her cheek. "You haven't even let yourself see if it is possible that there is someone out there that you enjoy spending your life with."

"I enjoy spending my life with you." She told him. She waved her hand at the space in front of them. "This? This friendship thing that you and I have? This is what works, Benji. Lust works well enough to scratch an itch and to keep the human race going. There is a reason why there are only a few species that are completely monogamous." She told him, closing her eyes.

"What about all of the couples that are happily married and in love and have children and families and lives together?" Benji asked her, squeezing her hand.

"Exceptions to the rule?" She asked, turning to look at him and roll her eyes. "My family is the perfect example of why love doesn't exist."

"Why are you scared of living, Beca? Why are you scared of falling in love?" Beca shook her head, wiping at another tear.

"Love never lasts, Benji. Even if people do fall in love, it never lasts. Why would I put myself through that?" She whispered.

"I know that things between your parents didn't work out, but—" Benji began, but Beca cut him off, shaking her head as more tears came pouring down her cheeks.

"My dad cheated, Benji. He cheated on my mom, and I caught him doing it." She buried her face into her hands, not being able to hold the tears back any longer. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his chest. She buried her face into his neck, crying harder against him.

"What happened?" He asked, rubbing her back.

"I caught my dad kissing one of the women he worked with at the first college he worked at. When he realized that I saw him, he pushed her away and chased after me. I ran outside to the tree house that he built for me when I was seven. He came after me and tried to explain what I saw. He said that he was sorry, and he was crying. My mom showed up then, and she saw what was happening. He was sobbing at the base of the tree, saying that he was sorry and that it was a mistake. She demanded to know what was going on." Beca pulled back, wiping at her cheeks. Benji handed her the box of tissues. She grabbed several of them and started wiping at her eyes and nose. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down slightly. "He told her that he hadn't been happy—they were always fighting—and that he made a mistake. He said that he was sorry, that he didn't want to ruin their relationship. He kept repeating that he was sorry and that he loved her—us." Beca shook her head. "My mom told him to leave. She told him to take the job he was offered here at Barden. She said that she and I weren't going with him. He went inside and packed some stuff for a few nights at a hotel. He tried to get her take him back and to work on their relationship, but my mom refused. By the end of the summer, he had moved to Georgia and my parents were in the process of getting a divorce."

"I'm so sorry, Beca." Benji said, rubbing her back and tucking her hair behind her ear. Beca wiped at her eyes again, knowing that she probably looked like a mess. She rubbed at her nose, shrugging her shoulders.

"My mom never let herself, or me, forget that he cheated on her and left us. If my dad really loved my mom, he wouldn't have cheated. If my dad really wanted to work on his relationship with my mom, he wouldn't have cheated—he would have told her that things were going wrong between them and tried to work things out with her that way." She ran both of her hands into her hair, taking a deep breath. "My mom was a complete mess after the divorce. I had to become the adult and take care of her. I would lie in bed with her every night, holding her hand, hugging her close, telling her it was okay. It was that way for an entire year, Benji. When she wasn't crying, she would tell me that love didn't exist; she would tell me that relationships were stupid. She said the only good thing that came from her marriage with my dad was me. She told me to never trust a guy with my heart. She said that I should never want a guy for anything more than friendship or sex. If love existed then my parents would have stayed together. Love doesn't exist, Benji."

"Seriously, what the hell is wrong with your mom? You were a kid, and she said all of that shit to you?" Benji stood up and pulled Beca up by her hands. He wiped the last of the tears from under Beca's eyes before he turned around and grabbed her jeans from the floor. "Put these on." He said, shoving them into Beca's hands. He turned away from her, making her smile at how much of a gentleman he was. She carefully pulled Benji's sweatpants off and pulled her jeans back on. She slipped her shoes on.

"I'm decent." She told him, and he turned around. He quickly grabbed his own jeans from the floor, pulling them on. He then grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. "Where are we going?"

Benji just grinned at her, pulling her from the room. "Live a little, Beca." He told her. "We are going to a late lunch or early dinner, and then we are going to get you dressed in a kickass outfit that is going to put Carrie in her place. Then, tonight, you are going to finally let Jesse in." They were nearly out of the building, walking in the direction of the dining hall.

"Benji, I just explained to you why I don't believe in love." Beca groaned.

"Did I ever tell you that my parents got divorced when I was six?" Benji said after a few minutes. Beca looked at him in shock. She saw the pictures of him and his parents all over his side of the room, and they all looked happy. "My mom—Marla?—she isn't my mom. Well, not biologically anyways." Benji shrugged his shoulders. Beca stopped walking. He turned and linked his arm with her, pulling her with him again. She sighed, following him. "My biological mom—her name was Andrea. She decided that she didn't want to be a mom after all. So, she left me and my dad. A year later, my dad met Marla. She was a new kindergarten teacher at my elementary school. I was in first grade at that point. My dad and Marla started dating. Within two years, they were married. Another year later, my younger sister, Katie, was born. Then, my younger brother, Brian, two years after that." Benji smiled. "Most people are shocked when I tell them that I am ten years older than my younger sister—twelve years older than my brother. Marla is my mom, and that Andrea woman? She is nothing to me."

"Benji," Beca didn't know what to say. She squeezed his arm a little tighter.

"I love my mom, Beca. My dad loves my mom. My sister and my brother aren't my half-siblings. They are my brother and my sister." He smiled down at her. "My life is great now. I know that I can let what happened when I was little with Andrea turn me into a shell of a person who is scared to let anyone close even now. But, I look at my dad and Marla. I look at the people in those movies that you make fun of Jesse for loving. I look at people like that, and I believe in love." He released Beca's arm and wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her close. "You are scared of getting hurt, but you are going to be lonely if you don't try. If there is one person who is worth taking a risk for, it would be Jesse, Becs. You two are my best friends, and I love you both. You two should be together. Let him be your exception to the rule, Beca."

* * *

Beca looked down at her outfit. She thought she looked stupid, but Benji told her she looked amazing. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, boots, and tight sweater with her dark jean jacket over it. Her hair was loosely curled, and she reapplied her makeup after her shower. The rest of the Bellas went ahead, including Carrie. She immediately latched herself to Jesse, flirting with him. Beca swallowed, looking around the party for Benji. The moment she saw him, she rushed to his side, gripping his upper arm tightly.

"I can't do this. She is all over him. She is the kind of girl that he deserves—pretty, blonde, not fucked up in the head. Well, not when it comes to relationships." She added, glaring at the blonde before focusing her attention on Benji.

"Hey, what's going on with you and Jesse?" Stacie asked, coming up to them. Unicycle trailed behind her, clutching two drinks in his hand, handing one of them to Beca. She smiled at him appreciatively.

"Yeah, I thought you and Jesse were going to jump each other after you announced the who no-sex-with-a-Treble rule was tossed out the window." He said as he sipped his own drink. Beca rolled her eyes, gulping the beer that he gave her.

"Jesse can be with whoever he wants. We aren't dating." Beca said quickly, looking away. "If he wants her, then he can have her."

"But, you two are perfect together!" Stacie pouted. "If you two don't wind up together, then there is no hope for the rest of us!" She looked sadly at Unicycle, who in turn looked freaked out. Beca tried to hold in her chuckle.

"I have an idea!" Unicycle said quickly. He turned around, waving to Jesse (and by default, Carrie). "Jesse! New Bella! Come join us!" Beca smacked his arm, and Unicycle winked at her. "Follow my lead, guys." Beca groaned quietly to herself.

"Hey, guys!" Carrie said, smiling. Her smile was flirtatious toward Unicycle and Benji, full fake sweetness for Stacie (who didn't by it the second she saw how flirty the blonde was towards Unicycle), and pinched towards Beca. "Wow! Beca, you look nice today. I was just telling Jesse all about how close we were in high school. We shared so much…" She wrapped a blonde curl around a finger. "Like, in elementary school, we used to share clothes and toys. Then, in middle school, you were super sweet for always giving me your homework when I forgot to do it." She smiled a sickening sweet smile at Beca that was definitely not genuine. "I'm super sorry that you never had enough time to get it done for yourself, but I really appreciate how you would always give it to me. And, remember in high school, we shared guys." Her face turned crueler. "Like my boyfriend. Remember Shawn?"

Everyone turned to look at Beca in surprise, especially Jesse and Benji. "Carrie! That wasn't intentional." She said quickly. "He hit on me. He told me they were broken up. He got me drunk. My dad told me that he and Sheila were going to be spending the week of my sixteenth birthday in Paris with his beloved new wife, Sheila, instead of with me. I was in a bad place and needed to forget." She gulped the rest of her bear. "Oh, look at that…I'm all out." She turned back to Benji, eyes widened slightly. "I'm gonna…" She pointed in the direction of the keg.

"Let me get that for you!" He said quickly, grabbing her empty cup and walking towards the keg.

"God! He makes us all look bad!" Unicycle groaned, nudging Jesse's shoulder. "Am I right?" Jesse looked between Beca and Benji in confusion.

"Wait, what?"

"Beca, are you and Benji dating now?!" Stacie said, catching Unicycle's plan. She clapped her hands together. "Super cute!" Beca groaned. "Uni," she grinned at Unicycle, wrapping an arm around his possessively. "Maybe you could take some notes from Benji on how to treat a girl right…" She winked at him.

"Dude! No! He is my best friend." She blushed, looking away from them. Carrie finished off her drink.

"It looks like I am out, too. I am going to go get another one. Just remember, Beca…I feel like it is time for me to return the favor." She excused herself, latching onto Benji like a leech.

"Good! She's gone!" Stacie said, running a hand through her hair. "I should have believed you when you said she was toxic. Seriously, look at her! I feel like we need to go rescue Benji from her clutches. C'mon! We will leave you two to talk." She grabbed Unicycle by the arm and yanked him toward Benji and Carrie.

"What the hell was that about?" Jesse asked her. Beca groaned, shaking her head.

"I'm out of here. Sleep with Carrie, don't sleep with Carrie—I really don't care. Goodnight, Jesse." Beca turned and made her way up the stairs again. She blew out a breath, ignoring the drunken calls from the Bellas, asking her to stay.

"What the hell?" Jesse caught up with her as she made her way into the quad, headed toward her new dorm room. "Beca, what is going on with you?" He grabbed her arm, stopping her. "What happened back there?"

"Nothing, Jesse! It is Carrie being Carrie. She has always been a bitch to me, and I have no idea why. If she thinks that Benji is someone important to me, she will throw herself at him. There is something wrong with her." She threw her hands up. "But, she is a big-breasted blonde and she is super pretty, so you can do what you want with her." She started towards her room again.

"Fine…what is going on with us, then?" Jesse said, walking quickly so that he cut her off. "You are obviously pissed off that she is talking to me, but you made it clear that you don't want to be with me. Hell, you made it clear that you don't want to be friends with me."

"Nothing is going on with us, Jesse."

"Then, why did Unicycle and Stacie go out of their way to get Carrie thinking that you and Benji are dating. Are you dating him?"

"No! He is my best friend." She ran a hand through her hair. "They were trying to get Carrie to go after Benji…"

"Why?"

"The three of them seem to think that we need to talk."

"Why, Beca?" She shrugged her shoulders. "No. Tell me why they think that we need to talk." Beca looked away from him.

"I don't know."

"God, why can't you ever just be honest? I don't get you!" He crossed his arms. "Why are they trying to force us to be alone?"

"Because I'm in love with you, you idiot!" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she clamped her hand over her mouth. She quickly pushed past him and did her best to run down the sidewalk towards her dorm.

"What the fuck!? Beca!" Jesse raced up behind her, grabbing her again. "You can't say something like that then storm off! You love me?"

"Please disregard that." She said, shaking her head. "I…I…" She ran a hand through her hair.

"No," Jesse said, pulling her into his arms, attempting to close the distance between them. Beca pushed at his chest, turning her face away from him. "God! You can't say that you love me and then not let me kiss you, Beca."

"I am scared." She said quietly.

"Scared of what? You already beat up a grown man for me. You already are more badass than I am." He said, rolling his eyes.

"My mom has spent the last seven years telling me that guys aren't worth anything more than sex and friendship. I have heard nothing for the last seven years other than love is bullshit and doesn't exist. That is all I have ever heard, and then I met you. You are a complete idiot. You are obsessed with movies and make cheesy jokes." She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "You made me feel things. It isn't fair. I don't have exceptions to those rules, Jess. I don't do relationships."

"I love you, too." He whispered, leaning down so that his forehead was pressed against hers. "I know you are scared to let me in, but I want to be let in. You aren't exactly the type of girl I expected to fall for in college. You and I don't make sense, but I can't stop thinking about you. I want to be with you. We can take this slowly, okay? But, I need you to know this, Beca: I'm not going anywhere. I love you, and I want to be with you." She stared into his eyes. "Say something, please."

"You're the only exception, Jesse." Beca whispered. Jesse grinned, closing the distance between them. The kiss was warm, soft, and slow. He didn't try to deepen it, which she could tell was to emphasize his statement that they could take what was between them slowly. Eventually, Beca wanted Jesse to deepen the kiss, so when he didn't after a few minutes, she decided to take it upon herself. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to pull his face closer to hers. She stroked her tongue along his bottom lip, and when he smiled, opening his mouth slightly, her tongue darted in, stroking against his. Jesse's arms wrapped more tightly around Beca's waist, and he sighed into the kiss. Eventually, air became a problem, and they broke the kiss.

"Wow," he whispered, pecking her lips lightly. She bit her lip, as he rubbed his nose against hers. "I'm with you, Becs. I'm not leaving." She nodded her head. She was starting to believe that was the truth. She kissed him again. For the first time in over seven years, she felt safe and happy. Jesse was the only exception.


	7. Holy Ground

**Holy Ground**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Holy Ground**_** by Taylor Swift**

**Author's Note: This one is AU. Stacie didn't have a last name, so I gave her one. For this story, Barden is going to be an all-girls college in Georgia. The Treblemakers are from a different college. It is short, but I hope that you all like it. Two updates for this story in one night (sort of)! You all are very lucky! Let me know what you think!**

* * *

Beca Mitchell walked into the _Starbucks_ that was a block away from her apartment and a ten minute drive from the little two-bedroom apartment that she shared with her best friend from college, Stacie Winthrop. Stacie was outrageous and a bit of a slut, but there was something really genuine about her that Beca loved. Even though they didn't have much in common, Beca knew that she could count on Stacie when she needed her. The two of them became as thick as thieves their freshman year, and by the end of their four years in college together, they considered each other more as sisters than friends, which is why they decided to get an apartment together in LA when they both talked about moving across the country together. Stacie had plans to become an actress, and Beca had hopes to become a record producer.

She had about a half hour before she had to be at work, so after she put in her order for a coffee and a chocolate chip muffin, she sat down at a small table in the corner of the store. She pulled out her phone and began checking her email. A big smile slipped onto her face when she received an email from another old friend from her college days. Chloe Beale was older by three years, so she and Beca weren't in college together for long (just one school year), but the two girls got close after Chloe decided to jump into the shower with Beca one day. The two girls kept in touch regularly, and now that Chloe was working in New York City as a financial advisor (it was a big shock to Beca when she finally learned that Chloe was a finance and economics major in college, because the redhead was as ditsy as they come) and had shacked up with some big wig CEO for some investment company (okay, so maybe she had married him, but whatever), so she regularly invited her old friends from college out to visit over the last six and a half years since her graduation. It was easier for Beca to get out to the city to visit with Chloe and the other girls when she was still in college (the ICCAs were held in New York every year after all), but she hadn't been able to get out to the reunions hosted by Chloe in the last three years since she and Stacie had moved to LA. The first year, she was doing a lot of grunt work for the big studio executives, with a lot of late night coffee and dry cleaning runs. The second year, the reunion was being held when Beca was given the opportunity to get a little producing credit under belt (granted, she was one of many producing that track, but her name still made it into a CD jacket). The third year, the reunion fell the same weekend of a wedding she was attending with her (now) ex-boyfriend, Cole, had roped her into. According to the email, Chloe wanted to have another reunion with the girls and to tell them something big. Beca guessed that there was one of two possibilities for this little reunion: Chloe was pregnant or getting a divorce. Beca responded to the email saying that she would love to come to the reunion and that she would put in for the time off at work.

While she waited for her order to be called, Beca reminisced about the last time she had been in New York City. It was the week of the ICCAs her senior year at Barden. Normally, the girls would only go to the city for the weekend (leaving Thursday night by train and spending all day Friday, Saturday, and until late in the afternoon on Sunday in the city with Chloe and Aubrey Posen, the other older girl that Beca had become friendly with during her freshman year at Barden), but that year, the ICCAs fell the weekend before Barden's scheduled spring break. Beca, Stacie, their fellow seniors Fat Amy, Denise, Jessica, Ashley, Cynthia, and Lilly, Aubrey (who had flown in from Florida where she had moved the year after she graduated with her boyfriend, Todd), and Chloe had all decided to spend that week together. The college girls got a couple of hotel rooms, and Aubrey stayed with Chloe (and Gregory, Chloe's rich, older hubby in their fancy apartment nearby).

It was during this week that Beca met _him_. He was attractive, with dark eyes and hair, and a great smile. They group of them were walking through Times Square, just enjoying the atmosphere of the city on the Saturday that the ICCAs were being held. She bumped into him by mistake, because Fat Amy had pushed her out of the way to get a picture with the Naked Cowboy playing his guitar on the street in a pair of tightie-whities, a cowboy hat, and cowboy boots (so, his name didn't accurately describe his appearance, but that is what he referred to himself). She fell into his back, and she quickly turned to apologize. Their eyes locked, and they shared a smile—one that gave her butterflies. They got to talking while the rest of the girls all took turns taking pictures of varying degrees with the Naked Cowboy. She couldn't tell you now what they were talking about, but she did know that most of the time was spent staring at the way his lips moved.

"Beca? Aren't you going to join us?" Fat Amy had called out to her, snapping her out of her conversation with the handsome stranger. She smiled apologetically, telling the girls that she would be there in a moment.

"Sorry…I gotta go." She said, jerking her thumb in the direction of her friends.

"It was nice talking to you, Beca." His smile made her stomach tumble, her heart beat faster, and her palms begin to dampen. He opened his mouth to say something further, but Aubrey grabbed her by the upper arm, reminding her of the time and telling her that they had to leave at that moment. She stood up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, rushing off with the rest of the girls. They needed to get to rehearsals at the theater where the ICCAs were being hosted. The competition was that night, and Beca was looking forward to winning.

Several hours later, Beca and the other Bellas were backstage when she realized that the handsome stranger she had been talking to earlier that afternoon was onstage, performing at that very moment. When his group finished (the Treblemakers, a truly stupid name in her opinion) and exited the stage, she tapped on his shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise, and a huge grin slipped onto his face. He pulled her into a tight hug, allowing her to smell his unique scent and feel the muscles of his back strain beneath her fingers. He made a joke about him being an aca-boy and she was an aca-girl and that it was inevitable for them to have aca-children together. She rolled her eyes at his cheesiness, trying to ignore the butterflies that she felt in her stomach. She heard the announcement that that the Bellas were going onstage next, meaning that she had to go once again.

Knowing he was there made Beca perform extra hard at during that competition, and she was relieved to see that the Bellas came in first that year, with the Treblemakers coming in second. At the end of the competition, Beca found a pen, a piece of paper, and some tape. She folded the piece of paper in half, writing the words 'it's inevitable' and her number on the inside, his name on the outside, and taped the note to the door of the practice room that the Trebles had been using during the competition. Thirty-minutes later, Beca found herself getting a text from an unknown number asking her to meet him for lunch the next day. She agreed.

It was a whirlwind romance for them for the next week. She spent most of the day with the girls, but she would always find time to sneak away to meet him for dinner or coffee or a walk around Central Park or a ride on the Ferris Wheel in the big Toys-R-Us store. It was almost as if the city was theirs. She learned during their first lunch date that his college also had spring break the same time as Barden's, which allowed them their little romantic excursion for the week. After four days of Beca sneaking off to be with him, the girls insisted that she introduce them to her new friend (she refused to call him anything other than that, considering they hadn't even kissed and didn't go to the same school). His group and her group got together at a bar, where they spent most of the night drinking and dancing the night away. With one look or a light hand graze, they knew when the other needed some time away. It was that night that Beca decided to take a leap. He was sipping his beer, chatting lazily with one of his friends (Donald? David? Daniel?) and Stacie, while Beca was trying her hardest to discreetly study the way that his throat moved as he swallowed, or the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed particularly hard or smiled particularly wide. She leaned over, whispering quietly into his ear, "I need you," causing him to go still and glance at her. The moment his eyes locked with hers, the noise around them went still. She smiled at him, adding an, "I want you," to the end. He gripped her hand in his, and they excused themselves from the bar and their friends, making their way back to her hotel room for the night. She got several texts from her friends congratulating her on getting it on with a guy that hot.

The moment the door opened, they slipped into her room, and the door closed again, she had lost her shirt, his shoes were off, and his belt was loosened. As soon as their clothes were off, they fell into the bed and they didn't leave until the very next morning. It was something that she never did; she typically didn't fall into bed with strangers, because she had issues with tearing down the walls she always kept up around her heart. There was something about him; he was like the missing piece of her. He completed her sentences, thought the same way that she did, but still surprised her. He was charming, annoying, strange, fun, goofy, and adorable, and even though she knew that he had flaws, she thought all of them were endearing.

Beca enjoyed their time together, but in a few short days, it was time for them to say goodbye. The day before she left, she took him with her to a tattoo shop. She got the tattoo of a small red apple with the year tattooed into the green leaf in black on the top of her right foot. The tattoo would be something that she could look back on for the rest of her days with a smile, remembering the time she shared with her friends, with him. Despite how close they had gotten over that week—despite how much fun they had together—they had different lives, different plans for the future. It was heartbreaking, yet fitting at the same time. His life was destined for New York City, and hers was destined for LA. They left it open-ended, deciding to keep each other's number in their phones if they were ever in the other's city. Their goodbye kiss left Beca breathless, and she felt like she was losing a piece of her. She knew that she would always miss him and wonder what could have been, but this wasn't some fairytale romance that would last them for the rest of their days. It would be something nice to look back on when they were old and gray; it was the kind of story that they would tell their grandchildren—their serendipitous meeting; their brief romance; their tearful goodbye.

Every now and again, Beca thought she sees his face in a crowd. Part of her hoped that it is him, because maybe they could start up where they left off—this time in the same city with the same goals and plans—but then she realized that that would mean that he didn't text her or call her when he got to her city, like they agreed. But, it has been over three years since they last saw each other, and she certainly didn't have the same phone (but she did keep all of her old contacts, including his number), so maybe he had lost her number. A huge part of her was itching to call him or text him, just to check in with him, to see how he is. She wondered if he ever thought about her and their time together the same way that she did. Did he wonder what it would have been like if he had gone to LA, too, or if she had gone to New York? Did he ever wonder what she was doing at that moment? Did he ever wonder if she had achieved her dreams? She wondered all of those things about him, and she could only hope that he did the same about her.

* * *

Two days later, Stacie announced that she and Beca were going to go to the club with one of her friends on the show that she was starring in. Normally, clubbing wasn't Beca's thing, but they were celebrating the fact that Stacie was getting a small part in some movie, so Beca did her duty as the best friend to drink, dance, and potentially hold the hair of her best friend at the end of the night. While they were dancing, Beca thought that she saw the familiar head of hair, the familiar butt, the familiar way of moving in a man across the club, but she waved it off. She focused her attention on Stacie and their small group. She closed her eyes, rocking her hips to the music, dancing along the body of one of the men that Stacie's friend, Patty, had brought with her. She pretended that he was in the room. She pretended that it was him that she was dancing with. Beca scoffed internally at how silly she was for thinking those thoughts, because it had been so long since they saw each other last. She was a distant memory to him, even if he wasn't a distant memory to her. She felt stupid, because she had never let herself get so hung up on a guy like she had let herself get hung up on this one.

Beca found herself getting thirsty. She excused herself from her friends and made her way over to the bar, climbing into one of the chairs, and ordered a martini. She crossed her legs, watching as her heel hung precariously from her right foot, sipping her drink and leaning her back against the bar. She watched her friends make complete fools out of themselves as they danced the night away. She finished her drink and turned back around to order another, readjusting her shoe back onto her foot before doing so. When the bartender set the martini down in front of her, a hand slapped a twenty dollar bill down in front of her. "Nice tattoo." The voice was familiar, as was the hand, she was sure. Beca's eyes followed the hand up the rather muscular arm to a very familiar shoulder, neck, and then face. Her jaw dropped open in surprise when her eyes landed on him.

"Jesse?" She asked in shock, hoping out of the chair to wrap her arms around his neck to hug him hello. His smell was just as amazing as it was all those years ago, and his body was even more fit than it had been when she had seen him last. His face was more matured—a little more weathered, with laugh lines permanently etched into the skin around his eyes. He looked good for his twenty-six years of age. She smiled broadly when she pulled back, climbing back up into the seat she had momentarily vacated.

"Hey, Beca," he said warmly, sitting down in the chair beside her, ordering a beer from the bartender. "How have you been?" Jesse asked her, taking a sip of the beer from the bottle when it had arrived.

"I have been good. Busy, but good," she told him, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. He grinned, studying her face. "You?"

"I have been great. I just moved to LA last week," he told her. "I got hired to score a new movie. I came out to the bar to celebrate with my new coworkers." He licked his bottom lip. "I've been meaning to call…like we agreed…but, I...uh, I wasn't sure if you would have wanted me to."

Beca smiled shyly at Jesse, nodding her head. "I would have wanted you, too."

"Well, I am glad that I ran into you, then. You look great, Beca." She told him that he, too, looked great. They chatted for awhile, until Beca heard Stacie calling her to come back to the dance floor. Beca bit her lip, looking from Stacie to Jesse, wondering who she should choose. After a moment, it came to her. She didn't have to choose one or the other—one life over the other. Both lives were coming together, and it was her job to further assimilate one into the other.

"Want to dance?" She asked him, jerking her thumb over her shoulder towards her friends. "I came here with my friend, Stacie. Remember her?" He nodded, following where she had indicated, his eyes landing on the busty brunette who currently performing moves that would make a stripper blush on the dance floor.

"Yeah, I remember her." He finished his beer and stood up, extending a hand to Beca. "I would love to dance, Beca." She tossed back the last of her drink, placing her hand in his and allowing him to pull her toward the dance floor.

So, maybe this was some epic romance after all.


	8. Smile

**Smile**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar. I do own Tina.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Smile**_** by Avril Lavigne**

**Author's Note: Here's another one-shot. I am on a roll with this group of one-shots! Enjoy! This one is also AU, guys. Another short one. Sorry!  
**

* * *

Beca Mitchell could be described in two words, crazy and bitch. She had the philosophy that you only live once, so you should do what makes you feel happy and good. So, that is how she lived; she felt like drinking that night? She did it. She felt like sleeping with that guy that she met in the bar? She did it. She decided that she didn't want to go to college, but instead move to LA and start living her dream of becoming a music producer? She did it. Beca didn't care if she felt hung over the next day and puked all over the bathtub before she had to rush to work, feeling miserable and wanting to punch her coworkers (and, especially her boss) in the face. She didn't care if that guy in the bar had a girlfriend that had just gone to the bathroom—she still flirted with him and got him to ditch his girlfriend for a trip back to her apartment. She certainly didn't care that it pissed her dad off that she gave up a free-ride at Barden University, where he taught, to move to LA and live in a shitty one-bedroom apartment with some girl named Tina, who was a total nymphomaniac (or, possibly, just a prostitute), and was basically a coffee-fetcher for the people whose job she wanted to do. Beca didn't give a shit about the consequences of her choices—she just did what she felt like doing.

Beca groaned as she rolled over in the bed, clutching her head. It was pounding, and she felt like she was dying. Also, she felt as though she may have possible swallowed a ball of cotton, because her mouth felt disgustingly numb and fuzzy. She opened her eyes only to clamp them shut again, burying her face into her hands. "Stop moving and making noise, or I might throw up on you." The male voice came from the bed beside her, and it only made her head pound worse. She groaned, reaching out and slapping the bare chest of the man beside her. He huffed, grabbing her wrist and using it to pull her flush against his body. She pouted as she buried her face into his neck, ignoring the fact that they were both naked. She felt too sick to do anything about it.

"I hate you." She muttered, not daring to open her eyes. "This is your fault. Did you spike my drink or something?" He chuckled, rolling over so that his chest was pressed against hers, his arms wrapped around her waist. He buried his face into her hair, making her smile. Before she met him, she didn't do relationships. She didn't like to think about the happily ever after or plan her day around another person's (except maybe Tina's or the people she worked with at her job). She didn't care about other people, but she met him, and he ruined her. She liked to tell him regularly that she hated him, because he broke her. (In reality, he fixed her; he repaired everything that was broken about her before she met him, and now she was actually happy. Way happier than she ever thought possible.)

* * *

When Beca first met him, she didn't expect him to be able to keep up with her insane lifestyle. He looked too clean-cut, too _good_. He was dressed in a pair of khakis and a light blue button-down shirt over a pair of navy blue sneakers for heaven's sake. Beca was decidedly _not_ clean-cut or good. She had been dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, Chucks, a white tank top, with most of her nine tattoos showing in all of their glory; her hair was in an unkempt ponytail and her eye makeup as heavy and dark as ever. But, she learned that he liked to party hard, too, but still somehow was able to function in life way better than she ever had—he was just that rock and roll.

It was noon the day they had met, and she was nursing a killer hangover, getting a huge black coffee at the coffee shop on her way to the food store to pick up some groceries for the week with Tina (who turned out to be pretty awesome despite her skankiness and became her best friend once they moved into a two-bedroom apartment a year after they had been living together). The two of them had been out until nearly three in the morning, drinking, vomiting, and having sex with random strangers. She blamed it on the new singer that she was helping to produce an album for. That girl really wanted to shed her cookie-cutter Disney starlet appearance now that she was twenty-one.

Beca and Tina had collapsed against the counter, moaning their coffee orders to the barista behind the counter, before dropping their heads down to block out the light. They were inside the damn coffee shop, and they were still wearing their sunglasses on their faces, but it didn't do much to alleviate the pounding in their heads. "Hey," she heard behind her, and she grunted something inaudible, shifting slightly so that she was practically on top of Tina, thinking that the man wanted to get to the counter to place his order. "What's your name?" He asked, laying a hand on the center of her back and leaning over so that his face was level with his. His eyes were a dark brown, his hair the same shade and messy in a way that was obviously styled to appear that way, and he had a huge smile on his face. His eyes had a hint of concern, and he added a, "you guys feeling okay?" She moaned, burying her face into the arms that she was using as her pillow (were one of them Tina's?). "Rough night, I take it?" The barista slammed their coffees down in front of them, and the two girls dove for the coffees, chugging them, ignoring how the liquid burned their tongues and throats as it went down.

"Shit," Beca muttered, running a hand over her hair and down her ponytail. "Never go out bar-hopping with a twenty-one year old singer-songwriter who wants to lose her Disney Princess image!" She told the guy seriously, before looking back at the barista behind the counter. "Another, please?!" She said pleadingly as she chugged the rest of the drink down and placed the empty cup onto the counter. Tina moaned in agreement as she, too, finished off her drink.

"I swear to God, Beca," she moaned, her British accent heavy with fatigue and pain. "I might literally be dying." Beca nodded her head, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"I'm afraid to look at our bathroom at home." She muttered. The guy beside her chuckled, and she looked at him with narrowed eyes, sliding the sunglasses up to rest on top of her head. "What?"

"You guys look like you need my signature hangover cure." He crossed his arms (he had lovely arms, Beca thought distractedly) and grinned at them. His eyes locked with hers, and Beca was sure she looked like shit, but he didn't seem to care. All it took was that one look, and she was hooked on this man. She didn't know him, but she knew that she wanted him in her bed at that moment, her hangover be damned.

Somehow, this strange man (his name was Jesse, they learned, and Tina told him their names) convinced her and Tina to let him join them at the grocery store (since he learned that they had nothing in their apartment aside from vodka, beer, and possibly tequila, unless they drank the last of it the night before when they got back from partying with Kristie or whatever her name was). While they got boxes of Rice-a-Roni, mac and cheese, Ramen noodles, chicken fingers and nuggets, and a variety of other unhealthy, overly-processed crap rather than real food that required them more preparation that throwing some water into a pot (and maybe some butter or something like that), the handsome stranger went around the grocery store and collected his ingredients for the hangover cure that he was raving about. Apparently, he and his friends from his college a cappella group created it after one too many drinks at their aca-initiation party his freshman year of college (WHAT THE FUCK? was the only thing going through Beca's mind; she didn't know what Tina was thinking, but the Asian Brit was staring at him like he was the biggest asshole she had ever seen, so she assumed that Tina was thinking something similar as her).

They got back to the girls apartment, with their new friend in tow. For the first time in her life, Beca was actually embarrassed by the state of her apartment. She and Tina shared a look and began laughing nervously, because there were empty bottles everywhere, random articles of clothing (men's boxers that certainly didn't belong to either her or Tina; a random bra that she was sure neither one of them had ever worn before), and trash everywhere. Beca was relieved to see that her records were still fine, though. The bathroom—neither one of them wanted to go in there to see what it looked like with him there—was avoided—neither she nor Tina offered that he use it once in the time that he was there. Jesse made the hangover cure, and oddly enough, they felt better when it was done. Beca liked to believe that it was probably something psychological, considering that it tasted like ass and should have made them feel sicker.

Days passed, and somehow Jesse had installed himself in Beca and Tina's life. He was beyond shocked to learn that she didn't like movies, so he took it upon himself to educate her in the finer points of the cinematic experience. He was practically at their apartment every night, with five different movies for Beca to choose from. Except for Friday and Saturday nights—those were party nights. Beca couldn't give up her lifestyle completely, but Jesse had this puppy-dog look that made her give in five of the seven days in the week. Although, the entire time he was at her house during their movication nights, she made fun of him and the movie (but she secretly liked both). Jesse certainly didn't keep his interest in her a secret, and Beca was trying to figure out a way to get him into bed without letting him think it meant anything more than just a fling every now and again to scratch the itch that he left her with when he looked particularly sexy in his tight shirts or flashed her one of his ridiculously cheesy smiles. Eventually, Tina told them she expected to be kept up all night long to the sounds of their moans and the bed creaking, because the sexual tension was beyond disgusting to be around. It embarrassed Beca to no-end, but Jesse just laughed, pulling her body against his and starting the movie. Within twenty minutes, they were making out and the movie was lost to both of them—a shocker, considering Jesse's eyes hardly ever strayed from the television screen when they watched a movie together.

Beca didn't know how it happened, but suddenly, there was this guy in her bed almost every night (the other nights, she was in his—he did have to go home occasionally to let his roommate—an old college buddy who went by the nickname of Unicycle because he rode a unicycle—that he was in fact alive). She woke up every morning with a smile on her face, because he was there, holding her hand or his head resting against her stomach or his fingers caught in her hair. For the first time, she felt happy and like everything finally felt right in her life. It was his fault. She didn't want this, but she knew that if he were to walk out of her life tomorrow, she would be destroyed, because he was everything she wanted and needed out of life. Honestly, there wasn't really anything special about him. He was a total dork, a weirdo, and idiot. He would sing obnoxiously loud in the shower or when he fixed her breakfast (she and Tina had agreed to start buying real food if he agreed to actually cook it). He would quote lines from movies during their conversations (and especially during their fights, which would make her simultaneously want to throw something at his head and to kiss him). He would make her feel the most amazing things when he would worship her body every night (and sometimes during the day)—and, she definitely enjoyed returning the favor for him. He would ask her opinion about the different pieces of music he wrote on his guitar or his piano for whatever movie or television show he was working on. Hell, he even wrote a piece for her after they had been together for a year (had it really been a year? Since when was she one of those girls?). Beca was scared shitless that he was going to wake up one day and leave her, and she would be left without the most important person in her life—her reason to smile and live and be happy.

* * *

"It's time to get up," Jesse muttered, snapping her out of her musings about their time together. "Your dad is flying in this afternoon." She groaned, burying her face deeper into his neck, if it were possible. He laughed, running his fingers lightly up her back along her spine, making her shiver and her body erupt in goose bumps. She moaned, stroking her fingers along his side, sliding her hand between them to run down his stomach to the trail of hair that began beneath his belly button and led to her quite possibly her favorite part of his entire body (well, one of her favorites, because she loved his eyes, and his fingers, and his lips, and his jaw, and his neck, and…okay, so there were a lot of parts of his body that she loved). "Shit…" He muttered when she wrapped her hand around him. "Not fair…" He moaned, his lips finding hers and kissing her heatedly. "We have to get showered, dressed, fed, and to the airport to collect your dad in two hours."

"We can be quick…" She whispered along his jaw as her lips trailed to the spot behind his ear that made his breath catch and his body jerk every time she kissed/licked/bit/suck him there. When her lips found it, he did just that, suck in a deep breath and jerk his body against hers. Jesse began kissing his way down her body. He stilled when he reached the skin just below her right breast, stroking his fingers lightly over her skin. Beca winced slightly, jerking away from him. "What the hell?" She glanced down and her eyes widened in shock. "Shit. What the hell happened last night? I remember us making out at the bar after that girl tried to proposition you when I was in the bathroom, but I don't remember anything else." She said when she finally opened her eyes enough to take in the fact that she had a new tattoo on her skin, the curling, loopy black lettering branding her with _his name_. She studied his body then, finding the same loopy scroll on the inside of his right wrist, but this time it was her name on him. She found herself oddly content with these new discoveries, and she wished that she could remember how she wound up getting "Jesse" tattooed to her skin and how she had finally convinced him to get a tattoo (her name made it even better). She felt oddly okay with the idea of belonging to him, which is essentially what the tattoo represented.

"I take it that we decided that it was a good idea to get a tattoo of each other's names." He said, pressing his lips to her tattoo in way that hurt so good. She moaned, running her fingers through his hair, holding his face against her skin. "I wish I could remember how you convinced me to get your name tattooed into my skin." He pouted like he was pissed, but Beca rolled her eyes, pulling his face to hers by his cheeks. He kissed her heatedly, and she wrapped a leg around his waist, holding him against her more firmly. She knew he felt how aroused she was about the idea that he belonged to her and she belonged to him, and she could also feel his arousal.

"I would do it all over again…" Beca said against Jesse's lips. "In fact, we should do it again—get tattoos together—so that we could remember them this time."

"I don't think I need another tattoo to remind myself that you are a crazy bitch and that I love you enough to go with it." She pulled away from him to stare into his eyes. He smiled at her, pressing a light kiss to her nose. "Well, I think that I would get one more tattoo for you." She crinkled her brow in confusion.

"What would that be?" He picked up her left hand and laid it on the pillow beside them, interlacing their fingers for a moment before he pulled his fingers from hers. Using his index finger, he carefully began stroking along the crook of her ring finger, just above her palm.

"It would be of a ring…" Beca's eyes widened in surprise, and Jesse just pressed another light kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he interlaced the fingers of their left hand again. "Marry me?"

Beca felt like she couldn't breathe. He had her from the moment he said hello to her in that coffee shop when she was too hung over to even stand. He had her from the moment he looked into her eyes and gave her that cocky smile and offered to cure her hangover with his genius concoction. He had her from the moment he insisted that she get educated about movies. He had her the moment that he took her to bed and made her feel like all was right and safe and good in the world. He had her the moment he made her smile for the first time in a long time that didn't have anything to do with her job. He stole her heart and never gave it back, and now she had no intention of ever taking it back from him. She is still stupid when it comes to relationships, and she knows that she is going to be even stupider when it comes to marriage (her parents—especially her dad [he had been divorce twice now and recently ended his third engagement to a woman named Martina, hence his visit to his favorite daughter in LA]—had an awful track record when it came to marriage), but if there was anyone who made her feel like things would be okay—that their life would be okay, it was Jesse. He might be nerdy and cheesy and a total dork most of the time, but he was her nerd, her cheese-ball, her dork. She loved him (he was the first guy to ever get those words to leave her lips, and somehow he was able to get them to leave her lips more than once in their year and a half together).

"So, what do you think?" He said after a few moments, looking down nervously at her. Beca snapped out of her thoughts and focused on him. She smiled—the biggest smile she was sure she had ever smiled in her entire life, which was saying something because he had elicited quite a few grins and smiles from her in their time together—and closed the distance between them, kissing him fiercely. "I take that is a yes?" He asked against her lips, and she rocked her hips against him more forcefully, deepening the kiss. She felt his smile against her lips, releasing her hand to pull her body even more tightly against her, burying his hands into her hair. When his lips trailed down her throat, she finally answered his question.

"Yes."


	9. Dark Side

**Dark Side**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Suggested by: lyrically-correct**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Dark Side**_** by Kelly Clarkson**

**Author's Note: A big thank you to** lyrically-correct** for her two song suggestions. They are beyond perfect. This one is slightly AU, because I really used the "dark side" of the song and ran with it. This one-shot is dark, so I would rate it as T+ due to a lot of self-loathing on Beca's part and mentions of cutting, as well as physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. I don't recommend you guys read it if it isn't your cup of tea, but there isn't any too graphic, which is why I didn't change the rating of the story. Please let me know what you think. **

* * *

The first time Beca sees Jesse, he is singing to her through the open-window of the car as an annoyingly chipper Barden greeter is directing her on how to get to her dorm (as if she didn't know where anything was on this campus, considering that her father had been teaching there for the last ten years). She rolls her eyes, completely amused by how ridiculous this stranger was being. They keep running into each other, and he is unashamed in his interest in her, which she tries to not share with him, because she is afraid that if he actually gets to know her, if he actually finds out who she was, he won't want her.

The first time he tries to kiss her, they are sitting in her room, watching the end of some movie that he says is essentially God's gift to the world. She doesn't think it is all that great, honestly, but she humors him. He tries to kiss her, but she denies him, brushes it off like it wasn't about to happen. She tries to ignore the disappointment on his face or the way that the air changes around them. She thinks for the first time, she should be honest with him. She should let him know why she is broken, why they won't work together. But, she doesn't want to be honest with him, because that would mean that she's admitting she is scared. She is scared that he won't actually like her. She is afraid that he will find someone else—someone who isn't completely stupid when it comes to relationships. She is not good enough for him.

After Jesse leaves, Beca goes to that place—the dark place inside of her where she hates herself and hates the world around her. The place where the same few phrases are blasted in surround sound, the voice harsh, cruel, and so cold—she is ugly, she is stupid, she is trash, no one loves her, and she deserves to die. The place that makes her take out that little black bag from the bottom of her underwear drawer and bring it to the shower with her, where she takes the single razor blade and slices into the skin of her upper thighs, her stomach, and on her wrists—the scars hidden by her clothing, makeup, and her many bracelets. The place where she is reminded of all the bruises that were left on her skin in the shapes of fists, hands, knees, elbows, and feet; the place that reminds her of the times she was held down and forced to be with a boy who she thought she loved and who she thought loved her. This dark part of her is gross, ugly, and she never wants to share it with anyone, because she knows that they would only come to realize the same things that he always said about her. Beca is sure that if she tells him—shows him that dark side of herself—he would run away, because honestly, who would really want her?

At the same time, Beca wants to show him this part of her, because she hopes that no matter how awful it is, he would still want her. She hopes that he wouldn't leave if she were to push her away. She hopes that he would help her remember who she is—the girl she was before He hooked himself into her mind and poisoned her thoughts and feelings about herself. She wants someone to tell her that what He said wasn't the truth. She wants someone to tell her that she is beautiful, special, good, amazing, and so many other things that she was taught to believe were lies. Because, if there is anyone who could see her dark side and get past it, it has to be Jesse, right? It is all that she could hope for.

Beca tries to ignore the way that how he starts to get along with the other Bellas bothers her. They might seem perfect for him, on paper, but they probably have a dark side, too. Everyone has a dark side. Maybe theirs aren't as dark as Beca's, but they still have one. She doesn't want to believe that he has already given up on her, because it would mean that she was wrong about him, that she was wrong that he was the one person who would be able to look past her dark side. She had just hoped that Jesse would have been able to look past it enough to care about her, to love her, to know that she was worth it, that they were worth it. She doesn't blame him though. She doesn't blame him for choosing to go to them, because they don't push him away like she does. She is constantly pushing people away.

Beca gives off a hard exterior, like she is a lot stronger than she really is. It isn't that hard to pretend to be strong around Aubrey, because she can recognize another person who has been told that she isn't worthwhile from a mile away. From the way that Aubrey talks, Beca can tell that the blonde's dad was a firm believer in putting everything she did down. So, Aubrey lashes out at other people—people like Beca, or Amy, or Chloe, or Stacie, et cetera—because it makes her feel important. Beca does the same towards her (towards Jesse), because it makes her feel strong (if only for a few moments), something she hardly ever feels in her life.

Beca's dad tried to tell her to let people in—to join something and to give Barden a chance. He tells her that she could find herself here at Barden. He tells her that she could find happiness if she gave the school and the Bellas and the people here a chance. She doesn't know who she would become—that happy person that her dad mentioned—if Jesse gave up on her. He is the one person that she had come across here that actually looked at her like he likes her for who she is. Chloe wants her in the Bellas for her talent, as did the rest of the Bellas; her dad feels like he has to love her because she is his daughter (she has destroyed their relationship over the years, especially after He came into the picture and left again, for her to really think that maybe he loves her for real). The only one who actually looks at her like she is a real person was Jesse, and now he is giving up on her. Beca doesn't want him to give up on her. She needs him; she needs him to make her feel good.

Beca knows that she keeps sucking Jesse back in only to push him away again. She knows that he is falling in love with her, but she keeps hurting him, never letting him know that she loves him, too—never letting him be happy, because she isn't happy, not entirely. She knows that there is only so much more that he will be able to take before he fully gives up on her, until he finally moves on to another girl that is worthy of him, who doesn't hurt him. She wants to tell him to stay with her, to not run away.

Beca sees it in Jesse's eyes, the moment he gives up on her. She screamed at him—lashed out at him—pushed him away again when he tried to stand up for her when Aubrey said that they were sleeping together. She can see how hurt he is. How angry he is. She can see the way he hardens himself to her. She hopes that maybe she could give him some space and he will get over it; she hopes that with spring break, he will get past this last time that she pushed him away and that things will go back to normal when he gets back to the campus.

Beca knocks on his door, hoping that the reason he hasn't been answering her calls and texts was because he is still working through what happened before spring break. She hopes that he will open the door, and he will smile and invite her inside. She hopes that he will tell her about some DVD he just bought and how she will love the movie and force her to watch it, which she will complain about the entire time, but it will be half-hearted, and he will know that she doesn't really mean it. She hopes that things will go back to the way they were—that he will still love her and wait for her to finally reach that point where the dark side of her doesn't force its way into the rest of her. She hopes that she will finally be able to reach that place where her light side overpowers her dark side. She hopes that he won't run away anymore, and that she won't run away either. She needs him to help her get to the place she who she is and who she was before He broke her.

Jesse's face is hard when he does open the door. He doesn't invite her in. He doesn't talk about a movie he just bought. He doesn't demand that she watch it with him. She says she tried calling him—that she left him messages. He says he got them. He is so cold to her, and she feels like the little bit of her light side that has steadily began growing deep inside of her since she had met him is starting to break apart. Jesse reminds her of when He would say horrible things to her, do horrible things to her. Beca feels scared for the first time since she has ever been around him. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to hide her fears. She tries to explain—she lashed out at him, because of Aubrey (no, it was because she didn't want him getting too close too soon), but he cuts her off. Jesse knows that isn't the truth. He asks her why she pushes away everyone who would get close to her. Beca says she doesn't know, but that isn't the truth. It is because He broke her. He ruined her for everyone else, and she is scared to tell Jesse, to let him see who He made her become.

Jesse starts to shut the door then, saying that he is done. The last of her light side breaks then, and the sob she has been holding back for so long—buried deep inside of her ever since He started hurting her and making her into this dark, terrible person. She buries her face into her hands, shaking and crying. She feels even more broken now than she has ever felt thinking about Him. Jesse is too nice, unlike Him, and he doesn't shut the door in her face like He would have. Instead, he sighs and steps forward, pulling her into his arms. He rubs her back, letting her cry against his chest. He keeps repeating the words, "it's okay, Beca; I'm here, Beca." She cries harder, because she doesn't know if that is true. She doesn't know how long that will last. After awhile, her tears stop, her sobs start to subside, and he pulls away. He takes a step back, ready to say goodbye, but she stops him.

"Don't run away from me, please." Beca whispers to Jesse, reaching out with her hands to grab hold of one of his. She feels him tense, but he doesn't pull away. She knows he is probably thinking that she is the one who runs away, which she does, but at the same time she has been running towards him. "Please promise you will stay with me," she pleads with him.

"Beca," he says, running his free hand down his face. He sounds desperate, confused, hurt, angry, and disappointed. He doesn't know what she wants from him, and she is trying to find the words to explain it to him. She needs him to understand, because if he doesn't know the truth, he will definitely walk away from her. In the back of her mind, she knows that she is manipulating him to stay with him, when she is toxic and will only hurt him and continue to bring her down. She releases his hand.

"Is Benji here?" She asks him. He nods his head.

"He is in his box." The way he says it startles her for a moment, but she shakes it off. She licks her lips.

"May I come in? I need to…I need to explain, and I can't…" She groans, running a shaking hand through her hair. He sighs, but then steps back, letting her in past him. She looks at the box and chews at her bottom lip. "Benji," she starts, but she stops dead. She doesn't know how to say what she wants to say. "Do you…do you think you could give Jesse and I some time to talk?" She asks, and the box pops open to reveal Benji. The boy nods his head, climbing out of the box.

"I will be back later. Text me if you need me," he says to Jesse before he walks out the door. Beca turns back to Jesse and motions to the door.

"Um…can…can you lock it?" He looks at her in confusion, but does as she asks. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she sits down on his bed, popping a couple of kernels of popcorn into her mouth, not really tasting it.

"You want to explain, so explain." He doesn't sit down beside her. He just crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at her. Beca stares at her hands, playing with the bracelets she always wears high on her wrists.

"I'm broken, Jess," she whispers. She hears his scoff and mutterings about how ridiculous all of this is. "I know that I told you things with my dad were bad and that my parents' divorce screwed me up, but that isn't the whole story." She pauses to wipe at a tear that leaked from her eyes. "His name was Kevin." She begins, and she feels that itching need that comes from accessing her dark side—the one that tells her to cut deep into her skin and to let the pain, sadness, fear, and anger from her through the release of her blood. "He made me feel like I was beautiful, special. Then, he started telling me that I was ugly and bad and worthless. He told me that no one loved me and that the only person who wanted me at all was him, and he didn't even want me all that much. He used to hurt me…" She let out a deep breath, wiping at the tears. "He forced me…" She shook her head, letting out a small whimper as she thought of all the bad things he used to do to her.

Beca feels the bed shift beside her as Jesse sits down next to her. He doesn't touch her, which is relieving, because she didn't think she could handle him mixing with her memories of Him. She carefully slips the bracelets from her wrists, showing him the pink scars on her skin. She carefully lifts her shirt, allowing him to take in the darker pink scars—many of them fresher than those on her arms. "I cut my legs, too." She whispers.

"Shit, Beca…I'm so sorry this happened to you."

"The first time I cut myself was after he told me that he hated me, that he wished that he didn't have to see my ugly face anymore. My dad told me that I had to come to Barden, and it pissed Kevin off. He tried to get me to stay, but I had no choice. My mom didn't want me at home anymore, and my dad was making me come here. Kevin told me that no one else would ever actually like me. He said that I was better off dead. He said I should kill myself." She lets out a shuddering breath. "So, I cut myself. I cut myself every day until I met you. You made me feel special again. You made me feel like I wasn't everything that Kevin said I was. You scared me, though, so I pushed you away. The first time I cut myself since I met you was when I didn't let you kiss me. I kept cutting myself until things began to get better between us again, then I stopped again. Then, I yelled at you after I got arrested because you called my dad—I said you weren't my boyfriend, and you looked so hurt, and it hurt me. So, I began cutting myself again. Each time I let you back in, I stopped, but then I would push you away again. I kept hurting you, and that would hurt me—it would make me hate myself worse than I have hated myself for so long. I am so sorry that I keep hurting you, and I know it isn't fair of me to dump all of this on you just so you will stay around, so you won't give up on me. I know that I will keep hurting you—keep pushing you away. I am too selfish to give you up, because you make feel good, and I need you in my life. I need you to stay with me. Please stay with me?"

"Beca, I am going to touch you, okay? I don't want to freak you out," Jesse says. Beca nods her head, and she feels his arm wrap around her waist, pulling her against his side. She feels his other hand turn her face towards his. She feels his breath tickling her face as he presses his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. "I'm so sorry that he hurt you. I'm so sorry that he broke you and left you feeling worthless. I need you to know that you aren't. You are beautiful. You are smart. You are special." She closes her eyes, feeling the tears slip down her cheeks. He brushes his fingers beneath her eyes, wiping at the tears. "Look at me, Becs." She opens her eyes carefully, and she sees the love in his eyes that has made her feel light in the midst of all the dark in the last few months that they have known each other. "I don't want to freak you out," he says quietly, giving her a sad smile. "But, I'm falling for you. It hurts when you push me away. You can't keep pushing me away. I know you are scared, but I won't hurt you, Beca. I won't hurt you like he hurt you. I'm not going anywhere. I promise I will stay with you."

Beca throws her arms around his neck, hugging him like her life depends on it. She feels Jesse return her hug with the same vigor, and she feels safe—at home. She feels loved. She knows that she loves him, too, but she doesn't know how to express that love to him—that gratitude for seeing beyond her dark side and even loving her because of it. "Thank you."

"You are probably going to hate me for what I am going to say next," he whispers into her hair. She pulls away from him, looking at him in concern. He promises he is going to stay, but is he now taking it back? Is he going to run now that he knows her dark side after all? "I'm staying, Becs. Don't worry…" He says quickly, running his hands up and down her arms. "I just…I need you to go see someone, okay?" Her brow furrows in confusion. "I need you to talk to a therapist. I can't fix you on my own, okay? I promise I am going to be here with you every step of the way, but he has hurt you really badly, and I am afraid that me being here, with you, isn't going to be enough. I want you to feel safe with me, and if you are always going to be wondering if I am going to turn into him, you are going to constantly push me away and to build up those walls around yourself. It is only going to hurt us both in the long run." She nods her head, understanding what he means. "So, will you please talk to someone for me?"

Beca takes a deep breath, studying his face. She knows that this man is going to be the one to save her, so if the way that he is going to do that is by wanting her to go to a therapist for him, then she will do it. She loves him, and she wants him. She feels safe with him. He isn't running from her dark side. He wants to help her fix her dark side. Deep down, Beca knows that she won't ever fully get over what has happened to her, and she knows that Jesse knows that, too. She just hopes that she will be able to learn to live with it so that she can be with him. She just hopes that he will stay with her for as long as it takes for her to learn to do that. "Okay," she whispers. Beca leans forward, pressing her lips to Jesse's. She feels him still, only responding lightly to her kiss. He is letting her lead this, because he wants her to feel safe and comfortable. She appreciates this now, but she hopes that he won't always be like this—afraid that she is going to break. She just hopes that they can learn to grow to a good place together. For now, this is good, though. This is what she needs. She ends the kiss and pulls back, smiling lightly at him. "I love you," she tells him, and he grins at her.

"I love you, too." He responds, and this time he kisses her. It is just as light and slow as the last kiss, still waiting for her to feel safe.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" She asks him, and he nods his head. He sets aside the laptop and popcorn. He grabs a pair of sweatpants, handing them to her. He turns away, to give her some privacy for her to change her pants. "I'm decent," she jokes. He turns back to face her, pulling her into a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"You're more than decent; you're perfect," he whispers in her ear, and she feels her heart pound heavily in her chest. He helps her into his bed, and they lie facing each other, their arms wrapped around each other's bodies, sharing a pillow. Their foreheads are resting against each other, and their eyes are locked. He begins humming softly, and her eyelids begin to droop. Soon enough, she finds her head being tucked into his neck, and his lips pressed to her hair. She feels herself begin to succumb to the sleep, and just before she slips into unconsciousness, she hears him say, "I'm not going anywhere."


	10. Here We Go Again

**Here We Go Again**

**A**_** Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Here We Go Again**_** by Demi Lovato**

**Author's Note: Another one-shot! Trying it from Jesse's POV this time. Wish me luck, all! I hope that you enjoy it. This one is a future-fic. I do own Diana, Lionel, and the random people that I will be discussing. Once again, giving Bumper the name of John. I sort of quote the song lyrics, but as Jesse's words, not as a song. I hope that Beca and Jesse don't seem too out of character. I tried to keep them in character, but at the same time to have them slightly matured and very desperate to hold onto a relationship that isn't healthy. Does that make sense? Let me know what you think. (Also, the pattern has officially went out the window! Haha)  
**

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Jesse Swanson looked around his apartment one last time. He had several cardboard boxes of her stuff that he was fully prepared to throw away this time. He was sick of all the fighting. He was sick of all the screaming. He was sick and tired succumbing to all of her drama and baggage. This time it was for good. He wasn't going to let her come running back to him and attempt to fix things, _again_. He decided to look around every room of his apartment one last time, making sure he had every trace of her gone. A huge part of Jesse wanted to just walk her stuff out to the garbage, but another part of him didn't, because there were so many good memories mixed in with the bad. Plus, there were a lot of pictures of him and their friends from college that _her_ in them, so he couldn't exactly throw all of those out, right? He sighed, returning to the living room-dining room-kitchenette of his one-bedroom apartment in the very noisy LA to stare at the boxes. Should he prioritize them? Maybe all of the stuff that is definitely hers—like the clothing she kept in his drawers and her tooth brush and that green spongy thing that hangs off a hook in the shower—he could just toss into the trash, or at least leave with her super at her apartment. The rest of it—like the group photos with the Bellas and Trebles or from Chloe's wedding two years ago, or the ticket stubs from their first movie in the city, or the playbill from the Broadway show that he drug her to when they went to New York City for Christmas their senior year of college—those kind of things, he could—should?—keep.

Jesse groaned, dropping to the floor in front of the boxes, emptying them to begin the sorting process. He fought the desire to bury his face into the shirts that she left at his place, to smell the scent of her one last time—for this will be the last time. He couldn't do it anymore. This _has_ to be the last time. He set her clothing, her toothbrush and toiletries, the couple of flash drives of her mixes that she left lying around his apartment, and the pictures of her doing the stupidest stuff (pretending to choke Bumper who was attempting to kiss her under the mistletoe at one of their holiday parties from three years ago, for example). He shoved them into a box, labeling it with a black marker: Your Shit. The rest of the things, the pictures of the two of them on important dates throughout their on-again, off-again relationship for the last seven years (eight, if you counted their freshman year at Barden—which he did most of the time), as well as the pictures that were from random afternoons after they got caught in rainstorms, or a picture of her sleeping in his shirt in his bed with his (theirs?) dog, Lionel, when he was still a small ball of black fluff (said small ball of black fluff was now a massive ball of black fluff and muscle that took up most of the bed and insisted on sleeping between them in bed, whether they were at his apartment or hers). The little mementos, like key chains from all of the cities and towns they visited during their summer road trip across the country after they graduated from Barden), the playbills, the ticket stubs, the mixed CDs and flash drives, all of it was shoved into their shared box. Jesse wasn't sure yet what he wanted to do with this box yet—throw it away? Give it to her? Save it and bury it in the top of his closet to have his future wife (not her! He was serious this time!) randomly come across it? He labeled the box with the black marker: Our Shit.

The rest of it—the group photos that had her and him in it holding hands or kissing or something, the I Heart NY t-shirt that all of the Barden Bellas and Trebles signed their first ICCA competition from his and her freshman year after the truce between the groups was set up, anything that had memories of him and her together with their friends from Barden and the years after they had graduated (including Chloe's, Aubrey's, and Donald's wedding stuff) was packed into this box, which was labeled with the black marker as: During and After Barden. This box he was definitely keeping, because these were the things that had his friends and the _most_ good memories associated with it. He couldn't imagine how pissed Chloe or Donald, and especially Aubrey, would be if they came across their wedding photos in the trash. He taped up the boxes and took the one the Barden box to put into the top of his closet. He returned to the living room, wondering what he should do with the Our Shit box. He chewed on his bottom lip, crossing his arms, willing the box to just poof magically to the spot where he truly wanted it (if he knew what that spot was—either the trash or his closet—he would have put it there himself). His phone rang, and he reached for it. It was sitting on his coffee table, near where he had boxed up anything that had to do with her. Glancing at the screen, he groaned, his thumb hovering over the reject button. He needed to hit the button, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Fuck, Swanson, get your shit together. Hit reject!" Jesse told himself. He didn't need to, though, because the call ended and went to his voicemail. He put the phone down, letting out a deep breath. He looked at the two boxes and decided that he had to get rid of both of them. He needed to say goodbye, and the only way that he could do that was by getting rid of those two boxes—the boxes that have the most memories of him and her and their tumultuous relationship. He nodded his head. He could do this. His phone chirped with the notification that he had she had left him a message. His hand itched to grab it and listen to it, but he needed a clean break. He stood up and shoved the phone into his pocket and grabbed his car keys, shoving them into his pocket as well. "Lionel," he called to the dog, which was currently lying on the couch, staring at him with the most morose look on his face. Lionel could tell that his dad meant business this time, and his mom wasn't coming back. Jesse frowned, knowing that the dog wasn't going to understand why Beca wasn't coming back. Lionel was technically Jesse's dog, but Beca had helped him pick out the dog as a puppy and had spent mostly every night with the two of them since, so it was like he was their baby. It was going to be hard on the dog when Beca wasn't around anymore. "Want to go for a drive?" He asked the dog. Lionel jumped off the couch and ran to the door, standing there, whimpering.

Jesse pulled his phone out and called Bumper, who was the only one of them actually living in LA, aside from him and Beca. "Hello, Bumperlicious speaking." He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous way that his old friend from college answered the phone.

"Hey, dude…wanna meet me at the dog park? There is something I gotta tell you."

"You're gay, right? Swanson, I have been telling you that for years now. I just don't know why you insist on pretending you like vagina, when we all know that you really love dick."

"Fuck you," Jesse muttered, walking over to hook Lionel's leash to his harness. "I'm serious, though. I need like a half hour to drop something off."

"Fine, Jessica, I will see you in thirty. I will bring Diana." Jesse said goodbye, hanging up the phone and shoving it back into his pocket, extracting his keys instead. It is probably good that Bumper was bringing Diana, because that means that the bubbly blonde probably didn't talk to Beca yet, so he could tell the two of them without getting dirty looks from the blonde. If it came down to the splitting of friends, it was Bumper and Jesse against Diana and Beca, which means that if Bumper wanted to continue to get laid by his girlfriend, then he would probably join Team Beca. He needed to get in good with the blonde first, so maybe it could be Team Jesse, instead. It was lame, he knew, but he had to do what he could. There were only so many people he could actually tolerate in LA, and Bumper was one of them. It was a shocker to everyone, especially Jesse, but the older guy had gotten surprisingly mellow after he dropped out of school and moved to LA. A few good kicks to the ass certainly humbled a person, and the music business was definitely one to give a person a kick to the ass. Jesse had learned that through watching Beca have to fight her way into a position that she actually enjoyed. (The cause of their fifth breakup was the fact that Jesse landed a job right away, whereas Beca had to struggle for months to find a record label that would even take her on as a poorly paid intern after they had graduated from Barden.)

Jesse hooked Lionel's leash around his hand and bent down to grab the boxes from the floor. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to hold the boxes, open the door, shove the keys into the lock, close the door after he and Lionel had walked out of the apartment, and then lock it—all without dropping Lionel's leash, the boxes, or his keys. They made their way to the elevator, riding down to the first floor to exit the building and to climb into the car. Jesse put the boxes into the trunk of his car first, before letting Lionel into the backseat of the car, hooking him into the doggy seatbelt that Beca had bought for him. Jesse closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat. He turned on the radio, cursing when the first song that came on was one that Beca had been singing in the shower the other morning. He quickly changed the station, sighing when the next song was one that was safe, as far as he knew. Lionel whimpered in the backseat as Jesse reversed the car from the parking spot and drove out of the parking lot in the direction of Beca's apartment complex. The dog knew where they were going, and it was going to break Jesse's heart to not let the dog see her. He could only hope that Beca wasn't home, so that he could slip in and out of her building undetected.

When he arrived at her apartment, Jesse heard the whacking sound of Lionel's tail hitting the car seat and the loud whines coming from his dog. He sighed, parking on the street and rolling each window down about an inch before shutting off the car. "I will be right back, Lionel. Then, we are going to go to the dog park. It will be a lot of fun!" He climbed out of the car and went to the trunk to grab the two boxes, locking the car behind him. He heard Lionel barking, but he continued into the apartment complex, walking up to the door off to the side that led to the super's office and apartment. He knocked on the door, and the middle-aged man with a big beer belly opened the door. "Sup, 2B's boyfriend." The man said. He looked at the boxes in Jesse's hands. "Or, is it 2B's _ex_-boyfriend now?"

"Can you give her this the next time you see her?"

"Do I look like the concierge?"

"Dude, just give it to her?"

"Fine. Don't get your panties in a bunch, dude." The super took the boxes from Jesse and dropped them on the chair he had set up in front of his desk. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." Jesse said snippily. He turned on his heel and marched out of the apartment complex towards his car. Lionel was still whimpering and barking from the backseat. He unlocked the car and climbed inside, starting the car up quickly. He waited for a car to drive past before he pulled away from the curb, ready to get on with his life. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he knew it was her calling—trying to reach him for what was probably the fifteenth time since they broke up the night before. He didn't answer anyone of them.

"Ready to go to the dog park, buddy?" He asked the dog in the backseat, turning left at the next stop light. Lionel whimpered in the backseat. After parking the car when he arrived, Jesse made his way to release Lionel from his seatbelt and walked him into the park, glancing around for Bumper and Diana. He saw them sitting at one of the tables in the shade. He raised a hand in greeting, making his way over to them. He sat down opposite them, releasing Lionel's leash. "Go have fun, buddy." The dog took off running, joining the mass of dogs running around the gated park, chasing and playing with each other.

"So, what do you need to tell us, Jessica?" Bumper asked as Jesse wrapped the leash into a ring and laid it on the table.

"Beca and I broke up last night." Bumper scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Is that all? Another normal Saturday afternoon, I see. Here I thought it was something important."

"It is really over this time." Jesse insisted, ignoring his friend's look of mistrust.

"What is this, the tenth breakup in the last seven years? You say that every time," Bumper told him. "And, then, two minutes later, you and her are back to fucking each other's brains out and crying about how much you love each other and missed each other and were so fucking sorry to do 'insert whatever caused the breakup here.' It is the same thing over and over and over again."

"It's different this time." Jesse told them, and Diana cocked an eyebrow at him.

"How is it different this time?" She asked, leaning forward on the table. Her blonde hair whipped around her shoulders in the breeze. "What happened?"

"The usual shit, Diana. Don't play him any mind." Bumper said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend's waist.

"I got offered a job to compose for a television show based in New York City. The job is pretty awesome, and I don't think that I can or should give it up for my career. But, her job is here. I know that it is asking her a lot to move across the country with me for my career, but I moved out here for her. She could easily work in the New York studio for the same label that she works for now, but she refuses to move. She thinks that she shouldn't have to. She thinks that I should just pass on the job and stay here." Jesse ran a hand through his hair, glancing over his shoulder at Lionel as he chased after some poodle. "If she would just talk to me about it like a normal adult, then maybe we could figure something out, like long-distance or she could live here for a few months and then live out in the city with me for a few months. There are bunch of ways that we could go about doing this, but she has it set in her mind that LA is the be-all, end-all for her and that it should be that way for me, too."

"Wow, Jess, congrats." Bumper said, reaching out to slap a hand on his upper arm. "But, that sucks that she is being her usual bitchy self."

"Hey! John, don't call Beca that!" Diana said, smacking him upside the head. She turned to Jesse, chewing her bottom lip in a way that meant that she was feeling conflicted. She wanted to support Jesse, but she also wanted to stand by Beca, who was her friend first (Beca had introduced the blonde to Jesse and Bumper, and Bumper and Diana had wound up hitting it off). "I know that you are upset, but try thinking about it from her perspective, Jesse. She has wanted LA and this job for so long, and she has finally got it. Now, you have this amazing opportunity, and you are asking her to give up the dream that she has worked so hard for to move back across the country."

"I get that, believe me, Di." Jesse groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "I'm just…I am sick of sacrificing everything for her and never getting it back. I have worked so hard to make a name for myself in this business, and this is the first time that I am ever going to be lead on scoring it. That is a big deal, and I need to take this job. I can't turn it down." He looked at Lionel again, frowning. "I love her; I really love her, but it is time that I stop giving up my dreams for hers. I'm better off without her." The words tasted sour in his mouth, and he knew it was a lie. He loved her to death, and he wished that there was some way that he could keep them both, but he knew that it wasn't possible. It was time to move on. He just hoped that he could get out of LA without seeing her, because he knew that if she were to show up at his door, he would break down again, falling back into their old patterns.

Beca Mitchell was Jesse's one vice; he was addicted to her. There was something about her from the moment he laid eyes on her in the late August sun, climbing out of a cab with her dark clothing, heavy eye makeup, and scary ear spike that got hooked under his skin. Each and every time they got close, she would push him away and go running, but then come running back, spouting something romantic or doing some grand gesture that would hook him again. Each and every time they broke up, he would swear that he wouldn't let her back in and that he would let her go, but each and every time she came running back to him, he would let her fall into his arms. He would keep letting her screw with him. It was an addiction—that is the only way that he could describe her. Their relationship was generally toxic, but he couldn't seem to quit her.

He thought that after they finally got passed the fact that he got a crappy job working for a small production studio, writing the jingles for local news promos and small-time commercials for Mom-and-Pop stores, the summer after they graduated from Barden, while she had to work two jobs, waitressing and bartending, in order to pay her rent (she had refused to move in with him, which, looking back now, was the best decision they ever made, considering how many times they had broken up throughout their seven years together), while she attempted to make contact after contact at recording studio after record label for months until she finally got some poor paying internship that got her foot in the door, things would finally be okay for them. Their breakup then had lasted only about three weeks. She finally got her chance, and the first person she called was him. Jesse was surprised that she called him, and after Beca excitedly shrieked about getting the job, which she would still have to work a second job with for awhile, she immediately quieted down and said she was sorry for bothering him. He said that it was fine, that he wanted to hear about her life and that he missed her. She told him that she missed him, too, and he invited her over for pizza and beer to celebrate her new job. She spent the night that night, and they were suddenly back together again.

That had only lasted about another year and half, before they broke up again. She didn't like all of the long hours he was working with a coworker on his first television series. He tried to explain to her that the coworker was happily married and pregnant with their first child, but Beca didn't want to hear it. She lashed out, like she usually did, pushing him away. They broke up and it lasted for about a month before she came crawling back to him, crying about how much she had missed him. They got back together, _again_. This was the sixth time that they had broken up in the five years that they had been dating (having known each other for six). They broke up another three times in the next two years, all three of which lasted for about two weeks before she would come crawling back to him. It was getting exhausting at this point.

Jesse knew that when you were in love, it shouldn't be like this. There shouldn't be constant fights and passionate reunions. Normal couples didn't do this. He thought that they had fallen in love over the eight years that they knew each other, and that they could finally get past all of the drama and childish antics. He wanted to settle down. He wanted to get married. He wanted to have kids. Beca couldn't be the person he did all of that with if she was constantly running away when there was the slightest bit of tension or when things got a little too serious between them. It was almost as if she had an alarm bell that went off in her head the moment that Jesse thought about maybe proposing or asking her to move in with him (she would immediately lash out and start pushing him away, and the thought would creep back into the deep corners of his mind). He should know better each and every time that they got back together that nothing would change—they would break up and be miserable without each other. This time it had to be different. He needed to get over her, because he had this great opportunity for his career. It was time to move on from the Beca and Jesse Dramafest.

Jesse's phone went off again. He groaned, digging it out of his pocket. He stared at the screen, reading her name and the less than and three that he had beside it. He had to change that. She wasn't his heart anymore. He was going to cut her out of his life completely. It would suck for Lionel, but if he was really going to get over it, then he couldn't see her anymore. "Are you going to answer it?" Diana asked him, laying a hand on his wrist, frowning at him with sad eyes. It took everything in him to hit the reject button.

"Nope," he said. "I'm done." He chewed on his bottom lip. "Unless she wants to act mature and actually have a conversation about this and try to work something out." Bumper rolled his eyes.

"And, there it is…every time I think you might actually be a man and ditch that crazy bitch, you let her right back in. Dude, focus! You have a kickass new job in a fucking awesome city where you can get serious tail with that whole face thing you got going on. You are going to be up to your armpits in hot girls who will drop their panties for you in a second." Diana smacked Bumper upside the head again.

"So, I take it that if you were offered a job in New York, you would take it so that you could have sex with all of the hot girls that you would find there?" She crossed her arms and glared at her boyfriend.

"Fuck, no, baby! I wouldn't leave you for anyone, because you are awesome and sexy and fucking amazing, and I love you." Bumper told her, pulling her into his arms to press loud kisses to her cheeks. "I am just saying that Jesse here needs to move the fuck on, and he can do that in NYC."

"But, Jesse loves Beca and Beca loves Jesse. Why shouldn't they try to work things out?"

"Because, Jesse is whipped and Beca is bat-shit crazy. They're not good for each other, and it is time that one of them grows up and puts an end to all of the shit that they are doing to each other. Jesse is doing the right thing by letting Beca hook her toxic talons into some other dude who will take it and not be miserable, and she would be doing the right thing by him by letting him find a girl that is almost as awesome as you that he can have half- or full-Jewish babies with."

"I don't like how you keep saying horrible things about my friend, but I guess you are right about them needing to move on…" Diana said, frowning. "I just wish there was a way that you and Beca could work things out, Jesse. I know you make her happy."

"If I made her happy, then why does she keep lashing out and pushing me away?"

"I don't know…" Diana told him honestly.

"Well, I better get back home and start looking for relatively cheap apartments online. I really don't want to have to crash with Aubrey and her husband when I move there. Aubrey is more Beca's friend." He whistled. "Lionel, come!" The black dog came bounding over to him, wagging his tail and barking. Jesse leaned over and hooked the leash to the dog's harness. "Good, boy. That's a good boy, Lionel." He pressed a kiss to the dog's soft head. "I will talk to you guys later and let you know the details about when I am moving and everything."

"Later, Jessica." Bumper said, holding a fist out for Jesse to pound. Diana jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"I will miss you!" She told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whoa, there! You're my girlfriend, not his!" Bumper said, clapping his hands. Diana released him, rolling her eyes.

Jesse and Lionel made their way back to his car. After getting them both buckled in, he drove back to his apartment, ready to spend his evening drinking a few beers, eating left over pasta from a few nights ago, and doing some serious research on New York City. He parked his car in one of the parking spots behind his apartment complex and made his way up the stairs with Lionel. He opened the door, letting Lionel into the room by releasing his leash from the harness. The dog started barking like crazy and went rushing towards the couch. Jesse froze, looking up in shock when he heard the feminine voice he had spent the entire day trying to avoid. "Hey, honey! Mommy's missed her big boy." He watched as Lionel leapt into Beca's lap, licking her neck and face in excitement. He carefully shut the door behind him and hung the leash up on the hook that he had hammered into the back of the door. His super of the building was probably going to bitch about it, but he didn't care. As long as it was fixed before he moved out, then he wouldn't have to lose a dime out of his security deposit.

"What are you doing here?" Jesse asked her. He tried to keep his voice cold and unemotional, but seeing her there, in his home with his dog like old times when they were happy, it was killing him. Beca told Lionel to lie down, and the dog promptly did so, across her lap. The dog was huge in comparison to Beca's petite form.

"Hello to you, too, Jesse," she snapped, running her hands through Lionel's fur. "Lionel, Daddy is being a butthead to Mommy." She cooed to the dog, and Jesse just cocked an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms. If anyone knew that Beca Mitchell acted like this around a dog, they would be shocked, considering she was all about putting up the tough girl front. Beca loved Lionel, though, and she constantly showered the dog with treats and toys and called herself his Mommy. Jesse tried to not let it affect him, because the day that he heard her say to Lionel that he was loved by his Mommy when the dog was barely six months old, he about had a heart attack. It was one of the times that his thoughts went to marriage and living together, and Beca immediately started to shut down.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her again.

"Why did you drop off all of that stuff at my place?" She whispered, focusing on the dog in her lap, running her fingers through his fur. He tried to ignore the way that her voice quivered and was so quiet—a sign that she was upset. He needed to stay focused. He needed to keep the wall up. The breakup was for the best. Seriously…right?

"Well, it was either that or throw it out." He told her. She looked up at him then, and he tried to ignore the shine in her eyes. "That is what people do when they break up, Beca."

"Do you honestly want to break up with me, Jesse? Can you stand there and look me in the eye when you say that you don't love me?"

"I never said I didn't love you, Beca," Jesse sighed, uncrossing his arms to bury his face in his hands. "Fuck!" He groaned into them. He marched past her to the kitchenette. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and quickly opened the bottle with the bottle opener that he hung on the fridge with a magnet. He gulped down half of the beer, not daring to look at her on the couch. He heard Beca shooing Lionel from her lap. She carefully made her way into the kitchen. He heard her come up behind him. When her hand fell on his arm, it took everything in his power to pull away from her and put a few feet of distance between them. She sighed loudly.

"If you really loved me, then you would be leaving me." Jesse shook his head.

"I'm not leaving you," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I tried talking to you, but you never listen to me…you only hear about half of what I say to you." He groaned. "You make me insane, Beca. You don't get it."

"I do listen to you, Jesse!" She shouted. "I heard you tell me that you were taking a job across the fucking country. I heard you tell me that you didn't want to stay here with me! You obviously don't love me enough to want to stay with me!" He shook his head.

"God! Beca, do you hear yourself? I never said that I didn't love you or that I didn't want to be with you! I moved to LA to be with you! I put up with a hell of lot of bullshit over the last seven years to be with you, because I love you! The one time I try to talk to you about something that is good for me—that helps my career, you don't want to hear it! Why is that? Because it isn't about you for once?"

"How can you say that to me?" She threw her hands up. "Do you not understand how unbelievably hurtful that is?!"

"I tried to talk to you last night." Yelling wasn't working for them, so Jesse tried to speak more calmly. "I tried to talk to you about this, but you do what you always do, Becs. You lash out; you push me away. You say cruel things about how I don't love your or care about you. Everything I do is for you, Beca." He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it. "I'm at my wits' ends. I don't know what to do anymore, Beca. I can't be with you, but I can't be without you. Seeing you hurt right now is killing me, but you don't get it! You don't understand what it is like—it's…it's just too hard." He felt the tears sting in his eyes, so he covered his face with his hands.

"Jess," Beca took a step forward, reaching a hand out towards him. It hovered there for a moment, but then she dropped it. "I love you…" She whispered.

"Sometimes love isn't enough, Beca." His hands fell to his sides and tightened into fists. He watched as her body began shaking, and she wrapped her arms around herself. He took a step forward towards her. Then, he took another. Soon, he was standing in front of her, and he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a hug. She let go of herself and slid her arms around him, sobbing.

"I'm broken, Jesse. You knew that…" She buried her face into his chest. "Why did you let me love you? I was fine without you, but now…if…I can't be without you."

"Beca," Jesse squeezed her body closer to his. "Just tell me what you want…you never say what you mean to me. You say you love me, but then you manipulate me into doing what you want, but then two seconds later, you change your mind. Just make up your mind and tell me. You freak out the second things get really serious with us. I can't keep existing in this limbo period where it's us together, but never moving forward. I want marriage; I want kids. Even now, as I say this stuff to you, you are tensing, pulling away." Jesse released her and stepped back. "Make up your mind, Beca. Or else, it is going to be too late this time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She whispered, wiping at her cheeks.

"It means that I should say goodbye. I should make a clean break from this. I have this amazing job opportunity in my career. I should be jumping at the chance to take this." Beca nodded her head. She ran a hand through her hair.

"You should. You're right. I was wrong to put it down. I was wrong to make it about me." She shook her head, looking down at her feet. "I got scared. I lashed out, because it means that I'm not enough for you." He groaned.

"I asked you to come with me." He whispered. She looked up at him. Her brow furrowed, obviously confused.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, I guess you didn't hear that, because you were too busy screaming at me about how much of a fucking asshole I am and about how I was self-centered." He gave her a sarcastic smile. "And the list goes on."

"You asked me to go with you?"

"Of course I did, Beca!" He laughed, but it was humorless. "I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to move forward with you. I was hoping that you and I would move together—live together. I was hoping that we could take the next step, and then eventually that would lead to the later steps of marriage and children. That is what I want with you." He paused. "What I wanted with you."

"Wanted?"

"I don't know anymore, Beca. I want it all with you, but I don't know if I can keep doing this."

"Keep doing what? Be with me?"

"No, fighting with you. I can't keep fighting and arguing and being unhappy most of the time, waiting for the moment when things are good and then hoping that it stays that way for even a little while. Then, the next fight happens, and things are miserable, and then we breakup. Then, we are miserable because we are alone for two weeks, three weeks, a month, and then you come back and you say you are sorry and that you love me. Then, things are really good for awhile again. It happens that way all of the time."

"I'm so sorry that you hate being with me so much."

"I don't…fuck!" He ran a hand through his hair again. "I just want to stop fighting all of the time." He sighed.

"What does this mean? Do you still want to be with me?"

"I will never stop wanting to be with you," Jesse told her. Beca wiped at her cheeks. "But, I'm taking this job." She nodded her head. "I would love it if you came with me, but if you don't want to, then I am going to have to say goodbye. So, it's up to you. Do you want to move with me to New York?" Beca stared at Jesse. "Take your time. It's a big decision…making or breaking our relationship, here." She glared at him.

"It is a big decision, Jesse. It is a huge decision. I know why you are taking it—it is good for your career. I get that, but this is a big decision in terms of my career. It is also a big decision in terms of our relationship. Are we ready to live together? You said it yourself, we have an insane relationship. What if we fight and breakup again? We are living together this time. There is a hell of a lot of messiness that comes with that."

"So, you don't want to go?"

"I don't know! I want you, Jesse." She groaned. "I want us…but, I'm scared. I don't know if I can do this! I'm already really bad at being a girlfriend. How much more can I fuck this up?"

"Beca, I'm asking you to take the leap with me. This is the last time I am going to do this. I want forever with you, but this is the last time I'm going to put my heart on the line. I love you, so you have got to tell me what you want. Make up your mind. Do you want to be with me? Do you want to move to New York with me? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Beca rubbed a hand over her face. Jesse took a step forward and took her hands in his. "Please, Beca. Come with me."

"Okay," she whispered. He pulled her into his arms, his mouth finding hers. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think, 'here we go again.' He hoped that this time would be different. He hoped that this time, things would be better. He was going into this knowing that there was a huge possibility that things were going to end poorly. He had to try. He had to try this one last time. (Oh, who was he kidding…he was going to keep trying with this girl forever; she was like a drug, and he was addicted. He was never going to give up on her, no matter how much it hurt him to be with her. He wasn't lying when he told her that he couldn't be with her, but he couldn't be without her. The two of them were had some kind of sick connection that they couldn't seem to break. Here they go again.)


	11. She's Not Afraid

**She's Not Afraid**

**A ****_Pitch Perfect _****Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: ****_She's Not Afraid_**** by One Direction**

**Author's Note: A big thank you to the guest reviewer who suggested this song! I listened to it and read over the lyrics, and I think it is outstandingly perfect for Beca/Jesse. This one is AU, too. It takes place when Jesse and Beca are in their mid-twenties in LA. There are only going to be a few of the other Trebles/Bellas in this. I hope that you enjoy it. It is from Jesse's point of view, since I apparently didn't suck in the last one-shot. I hope that you like this one, too.**

**Sorry if the spacing is messed up or there are missing words or something, because every time I tried to submit this, my internet would crash. So, finally, I just copied and pasted it. So, sorry about any mistakes. Hopefully, this issue will work itself out...GRRR!**

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Jesse rolled over onto his stomach, his arm flying out and hitting nothing but the mattress. He groaned, lifting his head from the pillow to glance around the room. It was empty now, all signs of her gone. He frowned, realizing that she snuck out in the middle of the night, again. Jesse rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, frustrated. His mind traveled back to earlier in the evening. She had walked into the bar in a tight black dress that was so low cut that it barely covered her breasts, which highlighted several of her tattoos (but he knew that she had several more that were only visible when she was naked, and she looked outstanding naked). Her eyes were lined in dark eyeliner and mascara that made her blue eyes popped. Her hair was loose and curled. She looked beautiful. Her arm was hooked through the arm of her best friend, the redhead dressed in an equally skimpy dress that was light pink. Even though the redhead was beautiful, his eyes were drawn to her. They were always drawn to her. They made their way to the bar, ordering their drinks.

Jesse watched them from his seat at the table, barely listening to the stupid conversation that Benji, Donald, and Bumper were having. He knew it was about the women in the bar that night, or maybe it was about Benji's new girlfriend at his office? (What was her name again? Lilly or something like that?) His eyes were locked onto her back, and he couldn't seem to pull his focus away from her. He watched her flirt with the bartender; he watched the man slid her money back towards her, obviously offering to pay for her drink. She and the redhead turned away, glancing around the bar for a table to sit at. Damn Bumper and Donald for coming by that night and taking up the two free seats at his table. Their eyes locked as her gaze settled on him. She just barely inclined her head toward him, a small smirk slipping onto her face, in greeting to him. She kept her eyes locked with his as she leaned over to whisper something into the redhead's ear. She sipped her drink and laughed at something that the redhead said to her.

"Who's the broad that you are eye-sexing from across the bar?" Bumper said, slapping Jesse's upper arm with the back of his hand. Jesse glanced away, turning to look at his friends, who were staring at him pointedly. He gave them a tight smile. He didn't want to talk about her, because she liked to keep their…whatever it was that they were…a secret. He didn't know why, because it was him that she went home with every night.

"Just a girl from work," he said, shrugging his shoulder like it was no big deal.

"She's hot. I'd fuck her." Bumper told him, and Jesse narrowed his eyes at him, taking a sip of his bourbon.

"Shut up, asshole," he muttered, rolling his eyes. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at her as she finished off her drink and turned back to the bar to get another. This time, the guy standing beside her, trying to pick her up most likely, held a bill towards the bartender. She smiled appreciatively at him, sipping her drink carefully.

Jesse hoped that she didn't drink too much tonight. He knew that she liked to let go of everything in her mind. He knew that she liked to build up the walls around her heart, and she liked drinking and forgetting everything with him. He would probably even describe her as being addicted to the alcohol and the sex—of getting out of her head—of letting everything go. He hated when she drank too much, because he would wind up spending the night holding her hair back as she emptied her stomach over the porcelain throne rather wrapped up in her arms and worshiping her body. He certainly preferred the latter to the former.

The first time he saw her, he had walked into the studio to work with a new producer for his latest composition for an independent film that wound up getting a lot of buzz and a few nominations during the award season later. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, a black tank top, and her hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her face was focused on a computer screen, and she had huge headphones over her hears. She was humming along to whatever she was working on. Every moment since then—every time she walked into the room, it was almost as if the room lit up even brighter. She was so beautiful, so smart, and so passionate about music. He was completely smitten with this woman, and she seemed to think that he was worthy enough to go home with every night. Unfortunately, she didn't want people to know. Unfortunately, she built up her walls even higher every time he tried to tell her that he wanted more than just a hookup almost every night. The first time he said it to her, she practically pushed him out of her bed and out of her door. He kept telling her that they could be something special, that they could—should—be more. She just shut the door in his face, and he could see the flash of pain behind her eyes.

Jesse just didn't understand her. Looking at her now, she wasn't afraid of a lot of things. She wasn't afraid of all the attention she received; in fact, she loved it. She wore the tight clothing—like the dress she was wearing now. She wore the heavy eye makeup; she was covered in tattoos. She knew that she was beautiful, and she flaunted her body, her makeup, her tattoos—everything about herself, because she loved the attention that it drew her. She wasn't afraid of saying things that would insult others; she was very tongue in cheek, and she often had a few choice words for anyone who bothered her. On one of their first…dates?...hang out sessions?...whatever the word is to describe what they did, she pulled him from his bed in the middle of the night to go skinny dipping in a local pool near his gated community. She then proceeded to steal his clothing and then ran naked down the street with them, dropping an article here and there, making him follow her, gathering the clothes as he came upon them. She was insane, with a wild side a mile long. She didn't care about the consequences or the risks; she was free. The one thing that he didn't get about her was her fear of falling in love. Two hours later, after she had drank about four of the fruity cocktails her friends had hooked her on during college, she caught his eye, gave him a suggestive smile, and whispered to her friend before sauntering toward the door. Jesse excused himself, ignoring the rude comments from Bumper and the pleas that he stay with them from Donald and Benji, and followed her out of the door. He caught up with her, climbing into the cab with her, kissing her heatedly as they made their way back to his apartment.

As Jesse continued to stare at the ceiling, he thought about how he had convinced her to stay in one evening, rather than going out to party, to watch a movie with him. He had been shocked to learn that she thought movies were boring and that she never made it to the end. He convinced her to let him educate her in the power of the movies, especially their musical scores (since they were both music phenoms). This became a regular thing with them, every Tuesday and Wednesday night, he would eat dinner at her place, and bring two movies that they would watch before having sex and then she would force him out the door—all by midnight. He began showing up earlier and earlier at her place in the evening, hoping to spend as much time with her as possible—he now arrived at her place at six in the evening, with a bag of groceries (he somehow began to make her dinner on those nights, and she would watch him because she somehow burned _water_) and a couple of movies. The only movies that she only seemed to enjoy turned out to be horror movies. He couldn't help himself, because the _Halloween_ theme music was one of his favorite compositions ever. She didn't get scared. She laughed, and when she got startled by the villain jumping out at a character on the screen, she would laugh even harder at herself.

Their first kiss was the night they celebrated the conclusion of their first project together. She was quite possibly his favorite producer, and she told him that she loved his scores, even though she wasn't a fan of movies (this is what led to his constant harassment about giving her a movication). They had gotten drunk at the bar that night, and she had grabbed his hand, pulling him out into the center of the parking lot where it was dark and secluded. She had pushed him against a car, kissing him forcefully, heatedly, her tongue swirling against his in the most amazing ways. She was in control, and he decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. He pushed her against the car opposite of them, and they both jumped and laughed when it set the car's alarm off. He grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the parking lot towards the street, where he flagged down a cab. They climbed inside of it, and with barely a glance at each other, he told the cab driver his address. Their first kiss turned into the night they spent together. Even after all of these amazing moments they shared, she was still scared of letting them take the next step—to be something more than fuck-buddies.

Jesse sighed, running a hand over his face, wondering if this was all a test. Did she want to know how hard he would fight for her to finally fall in love with him? He was certainly on his way there. They would spend their days working on his music for whatever film he was composing for, and then almost every night together in his bed or hers. They would talk about everything and anything. They would laugh. They would kiss. They would make love (he knew that she would kill him if she ever knew that he thought those words in relation to her). They were the perfect couple without actually using the words couple, girlfriend, boyfriend, relationship, or love. He wanted that. He needed that. With her. Surely, this was all a test to see if he could tell just how amazing she is—how much she is worth fighting for. Because, she is. She is so worth it.

Then again, there is that fuller-figured Australian woman that she works with that always hits on Jesse in front of her. Then, there is the skinny blonde that she works with that always looks like she is about to puke and has a dirty look for him whenever he comes into the room. Apparently, it is against the rules for her to date a client—as in him—so the two women he works with are probably constantly in her ear, telling her that she better not get close to him. These women might have told her that he would break her heart. It honestly doesn't matter either way, though—it could be that she was testing him, or it could be because she had people telling her that he would only break her heart or ruin her career—it didn't matter, because she was a tease. She knew that he cared for her—he told her as much—but she still put her walls anyways. She would tell him that it isn't really love that he was feeling—it was lust, infatuation—it wasn't love, because love didn't exist. That couldn't be true. She couldn't honestly believe that, right? He had shown her enough movies that she had to believe that love existed. He knew that love existed. He had been in love three times in his life: with his high school sweetheart, with his college sweetheart, and the first woman he dated a year after he graduated from college. Sure, none of those relationships had lasted, but it didn't mean that he didn't believe in true love and soul mates. He just knew that he hadn't met that _girl_ yet, and he honestly believed that _she_ could be that girl.

Jesse grabbed his phone from where he had left it on the end table earlier in the evening. Her number was the one that he called and texted the most, ahead of his parents' and siblings and his best friends, like Donald and Benji. He held the phone to his ear, listening to the ringing and the click of her answer. "Hey," she whispered softly.

"You left again," he sighed, and she heard her mumbled apology.

"I have an early morning meeting with Aubrey—I couldn't be late…" She said as an explanation. Jesse scoffed.

"More like: 'I had to run away.' Why did you do that? Because I told you I am in love with you." He could hear her discomfort through the phone. "I told you I love you when we were having sex." He said again. "You ran away."

"Jesse," she said after a moment. "Please, don't…" He sighed loudly, and he could hear her sniffle.

"You know you feel the same way for me, Beca," Jesse said. "You know tonight was different—a hell of a lot better—because I said those words. I can see it in your eyes; you love me, too. I just don't know why you push me away."

"Please, stop." She said again. He shook his head.

"I can't keep doing this anymore, Beca. I love you, and I want more, but if you can't give me that, then I am going to have to walk away. I will see you later…or talk to you later, or something. Bye." He hung up the phone and closed his eyes.

Jesse didn't want to give her up. He needed her. He loved her. He wanted only her, but he couldn't keep putting his heart on the line only to have her walk away like she keeps doing. He wanted more than a fuck-buddy. He wanted a relationship with her, because he loved her. More than he had loved any of the other women he had loved in the past. She was better—worth more to him.

* * *

They didn't talk for two days. They were the longest two days of his life, and he felt almost sick with the longing to hold her in his arms, to kiss her, to see her. He didn't go out, because he didn't want to risk seeing her flirt with other men or to go home with another man. Because, she surely was going to move on, because he had to use the l-word and scare her away. He pretty much spent his time at home, on his couch, watching movies, or in front of his piano, composing songs (heartache-filled breakup songs, it appeared). He hardly ate. On the third day, he jumped when someone knocked on his door. He stood up and made his way over to the door, opening it carefully. His eyebrows flew up into his hair as he took in her appearance. He didn't expect to see her there, at his door.

"Beca?" Jesse said, stepping back and holding the door open, allowing her to enter. "What are you doing here?" He said, shutting the door behind her. He took in her appearance. Beca was dressed in a pair of jeans, a pair of flip flops on her feet, and a baggy gray t-shirt (was that his?). Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and she looked like she had been crying. Her nose was red, as were her cheeks and ears, and her eyes were puffy. She wore no makeup—it was the first time he had ever really seen her without makeup, aside from when she was just out of the shower. He certainly had never seen her crying. "Are you crying?"

"You haven't…you didn't come over for our movie nights." She whispered, wiping at her cheeks. He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "You just…you…" She buried her face into her hands for a moment. She dropped her hands, glaring at him. She pushed at his chest, punctuating each of her words with another push. "I hate you, you know that? I was perfectly fine the way that I was, and then you had to fuck everything up!"

"Why are you here, Beca?" He said, catching her hands to keep her from pushing him anymore.

"I hate you…" She whispered. She kept repeating the words over and over. She pulled her hands from his and turned her back on him, wrapping her arms around herself. Jesse sighed, stepping behind her to wrap her arms around her body. He buried his face into Beca's neck.

"I love you, too." He whispered, and she turned in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Even though she didn't say the words that he wanted to hear, he knew that she loved him. Beca could have walked away after their conversation in the middle of the night those few nights ago. But, here she was, in his home, crying over the fact that he had missed movie nights with her and had somehow planted himself in her life and "ruined" it. He knew that she loved him, and he loved her. He was going to show her each and every day that she didn't need to be afraid of love. He was going to show her how amazing love can be.


	12. Daydreamer

**Daydreamer**

**A ****_Pitch Perfect_**** Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: ****_Daydreamer _****by Adele**

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone! I love this song by Adele. It is beyond beautiful! This one is from Beca's point of view. It isn't AU, but it is a future-fic. It is set about four years after they graduated from Barden. I own Kyra. She is awesome.**

**So, when I first began writing this, I knew that it would be longer than the others I had posted recently, because there was so much that I needed to set up for where Beca and Jesse are now. At the end, I was kind of shocked by how long this chapter turned out to be. I mean, 22 pages in Word, or about 13.5K words? It is insane. So, I apologize for this HUGE update. I do hope that you like it though. **

* * *

In their final three years at Barden, Beca and Jesse broke up at least once each year. Usually, it was because she put up her walls, and he decided that he had it and needed a "break" from all of her drama. For two weeks, they were miserable, and she would come home from classes to the house that she, Amy, Stacie, and Lilly had rented beginning their sophomore year of college; Jesse would be sitting on the front step by her door, with his face buried in his hands. She would put her schoolbag down and sit down beside him, leaving about a foot of space between them. They would be silent for a moment, and he would drop his hands, laying them on his knees. They would stare into the space between them. Suddenly, they would both whisper six words to each other at pretty much the same time, "I'm so sorry; I love you." They would turn toward each other and pull the other into their arms, burying their faces into the other's neck. They both had something to be sorry about—Beca, because of her walls; Jesse, because he temporarily gave up on her. It is in those moments, Beca knew that he would wait on her doorstep for hours, waiting for her to get home, and she is sure that he would be there her whole life.

Unfortunately, she learns that this isn't exactly the case, because they breakup twice during their senior year. The first time followed the usual pattern of behavior—two weeks of hell alone, and then he would be back, sitting on her doorstep. The second time was different. It was different, because Beca had packed all of her furniture into the back of a moving truck that would be driving across the country, to her dream, to LA. He wasn't headed to LA. He had gotten into NYU's graduate music composition program. They were headed in different directions, and it wouldn't be easy to stay together when they were living on two different sides of the country. Beca had enough trouble with being in a relationship when they were living in the same city and going to the same school. This would be too much for them (read: her), so she decided to break things off with him. He was heartbroken, of course, as was she. She told him that this is how it had to be. She said it wouldn't work, and they would only be in a ton of pain being so far apart. One of them would screw up (and they both knew that she meant herself), and then it would ruin them beyond repair. She said it was like that movie he made her watch with John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale, _Serendipity_—if they were meant to be, then fate or God or Mother Nature or whatever was out there would bring them together again. Usually, she didn't talk like that, so Jesse knew that Beca was serious when she told him that it was over. They both cried, and it was the hardest moment of her life for Beca to climb into the cab that would take her to the airport alone. She was going to try to live without him, and she was afraid that it was going to be impossible.

The first year was horrible. Beca essentially did exactly what she told her father she would be doing had he let her go to LA when she was eighteen years old. She felt like she lost so much time, but she couldn't regret those four years she spent at Barden. She made so many great friends (Stacie, Amy, Lilly, Chloe, Cynthia Rose, Benji, and, hell, even Aubrey became a pretty good friend for her). She had also spent the most amazing three years of her life with Jesse, and she was right when it felt like there was a hole in her heart without him being in her life. She refused to answer his calls or texts, but she did keep up with him through the occasional email and the even fewer comments or messages on Facebook. It hurt too much to talk to him without having him with her—by her side, kissing her, holding her, loving her, being with her. She needed the contact with him to be limited.

The second year was easier. She got promoted. She was allowed to produce the demo tracks for a small studio in LA where Disney channel wannabe princesses or gross heavy metal bands would pay exorbitant amounts of money for one hour in the studio to lay down a couple of tracks in the hopes that some recording studio would want to sign them. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to do—she, like Jesse, wanted to move people with her music; she wanted to be like David Guetta, producing amazing songs that huge singers like Usher and Jennifer Hudson sang on. On the weekends, she DJed at local clubs, getting her own mixes heard. She started to get a small fan base going from the club scene—people asked if she had copies of music that they could get. She started selling flash drives that had about ten of her mixes on them at the clubs, and she made a nice chunk of change from that. She just hoped that eventually her mixes would get into the hands of a label or a big shot producer.

It was during their second year apart that she began dating again. She felt dirty at first—the first few dates she went on with guys that her coworkers set her up with didn't get beyond the first or second date. She never slept with anyone either. She used to sleep around (not quite like Amy or Stacie did, but she did enjoy sex) and didn't do relationships, which changed when she met Jesse. For three years, she was in a committed relationship, where she only slept with one man. That relationship changed her so much—so much for the better, she believed (read: hoped). Going from that long term relationship—her first and only in her twenty-four years on this Earth—to sleeping around again didn't really sound appealing to Beca. But, she knew that she had to move on (she knew that he had moved on after awhile through their limited communication on Facebook and through emails, and from her continued conversation with Benji, the only former Treble she really talked to), so she decided she needed to try, too. She went on the dates with guys her friends from work insisted that she would get along with. She went on dates with guys who tried picking her up in bars or at the grocery store or at Starbucks. She went on dates with the agents of the people who were recording demos at the shitty little studio where she worked. She went on dates with the bartenders from the clubs where she DJed. Hell, she even went on dates with other DJs and the customers who bought her mixes. None of them really stuck—not for much longer than a few months. The longest person she dated was for about ten dates, or three months.

The third year, two huge things happened in her life. A big shot executive from a well-known label came into one of the clubs where she was DJing that night, with two pop princesses that had just made it into the business (the redhead looked familiar—did Beca produce her demo tracks?). Apparently, the redhead recognized her, too. She jumped up and down and pointed Beca out to the executive that she was hanging all over. The three of them made their way over to Beca, who was finishing up her set and about to take her fifteen minute break, where she would chug two waters and take a piss. Apparently, his name was Dean, and he liked her sound, and he loved how she had produced Kyra's (the redhead) demo tracks. He offered her a job, and she immediately took it. This was finally her chance to become the next big producer. The redhead insisted that she start producing on her new album, and within fifteen minutes, Beca was about to become the next big thing to David Guetta. She couldn't believe it.

The second huge thing that happened that year was that she met a guy named Ian. He was handsome—he actually resembled Luke with the bright blue eyes and blond hair—intelligent, and so talented. He was another producer at the label where she was now working. He was charming and funny, and, God, she fell hard. For the first time in three years, Beca found herself really drawn to a man who wasn't Jesse. Suddenly, they were in a relationship, and she finally felt like she had found the life that she was supposed to live since she and Jesse had parted ways. Sure, she missed him, and she wondered what things would have been like if he had gotten his graduate degree in an LA-based school, but she didn't like to dwell on that much. She was with Ian now. He was perfect for her.

Their romance ended after a year, though, because Ian was offered an even better job—a big named star at their label switched labels and asked Ian to go with them—to be his only producer for the rest of his career. The label was based in Nashville. Apparently, the star wanted to get back to his country roots, and Ian agreed to go with them. He asked Beca to go to Nashville with him, but LA had always been her dream. She loved LA. She loved her job. She loved working with Kyra (who turned out to be a not so shitty singer-songwriter after all and soon became a good friend of Beca's) and the other stars and starlets that came (and often went rather quickly) through the label. She didn't want to leave this job, this city. In the back of her mind, she felt like it would be betraying Jesse, because she could have gone to New York City with him if she had wanted to, and because she had broken up with him because she wanted LA that much.

Beca's heart was broken even further when Ian left, because she did love him. She thought that he might be the one (since Jesse wasn't, considering serendipity or fate or God or Mother Nature never brought him back into her life). She kept up with his career via Benji, his Facebook, their emails, and Google. He was doing well in New York since his graduation. He was hire to compose for a series of television shows and soaps that were based in New York. He had even gotten the chance to assist other composers in a couple of indie movies, as well. He was doing well, but he still hadn't reached that big break yet. She hoped that he would find it, though, because he was so talented. She loved his music, and she remembered lying on his bed half-asleep as he would sit in his desk chair with a guitar on his lap or in front of his keyboard, with a music stand with blank sheet music beside him, scribbling notes onto the staffs with a pencil. He could move people with the music that he wrote, because he certainly moved her when she listened to him as he composed for class and for his samples included in his application to NYU.

* * *

Beca parked her tiny sports car (she made good money after she started producing songs for Kyra and the like at the label) in the parking lot beside the label and walked into the office. It was a Monday, and she had a meeting with Kyra that morning. The pop star had called her, squealing excitedly about big news on Friday that she wanted to tell her about on Monday. Beca couldn't get Kyra to tell her what the news was, however, because Kyra said as much as she wanted to tell her best friend her good news, she was going to have to wait until first thing Monday morning to tell her head producer the news. So, the meeting was business related, but Kyra did drag Beca out on Friday and Saturday night to celebrate by getting smashed and flirting with guys in bars and clubs (even drunk, Kyra didn't let her news slip, no matter how hard Beca tried). She smiled at the woman behind the desk, who waved as she answered the phones. She said hellos to the other producers, executives, and random artists who were wondering around the building. She walked into her office and turned her computer on, setting her oversized purse down. When her computer finally finished loading, she clicked on the internet to start checking her email. After about ten minutes of perusing her email from her bosses and listening to the occasional track attached to emails, her phone rang.

"Beca Mitchell speaking," she said into the phone that she tucked between her ear and shoulder as she quickly typed a response to one of her fellow producers about an artist that she had worked with for a song before being transferred to the other producer.

"Ms. Mitchell, a Ms. Carter and her team have arrived. Shall I send them back?" Kelly, the receptionist, said. Beca grinned.

"Oh, good, Kyra's here. Yes, send them back, please, Kelly. Thank you." She hung up the phone and exited her email, ready to get to work with Kyra on whatever she wanted to tell Beca that was work-related. She grabbed a pad of paper, a pen, and took a sip of the coffee the label's current intern gopher (Bryant or something like that) had dropped off for her a few moments after her arrival. There was a light knock before Kyra came bounding into the office, squealing with excitement. Beca laughed, jumping up to pull the girl into a hug after she had rushed around the desk. Kyra reminded Beca of Chloe so much that it was kind of creepy, considering they were both kind of slutty redheads. The two girls had gotten close when Chloe had come to LA to visit Beca, and they kept going around and telling people they were twins, which caused the girls to laugh when they saw some online gossip mag run a short article about Kyra Carter and her twin sister running around the town together with a friend over the weekend. Kyra's publicist released a statement that Kyra did not have a twin sister, which made the gossip rag look stupid.

"Babes, I am so excited to tell you my news!" Kyra said, dropping into the chair across from Beca's desk after Beca had shaken hands with the redhead's agent and manager (why she needed two people to essentially do the same job, Beca wasn't sure). Beca smiled, sitting down in her chair and grabbing her pen.

"I'm ready. Lay it on me." She poised the pen, ready to take notes. "We just finished your last album, so I am surprised you want to get started on this one. Don't you have to go on tour or something?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

Kyra waved her off. "No, no! I just got a call from Warner Brothers, and they want me to co-write an original song for their next big blockbuster! Apparently, I am supposed to get together with the movie's composer to write the song." She started bouncing up and down, and Beca dropped the pen in shock.

"Holy shit! Seriously? Congrats!" She told her friend, seriously. Kyra grinned and ran a hand through her hair.

"Thanks! I'm so excited."

"So, tell me about the movie? Tell me about the composer? Is he or she any good?"

"Um, well, I looked over some of the stuff that they sent me that he wrote before, and they were gorgeous, so I am excited to work on the song with him." Kyra held a hand out, and her manager (or was it her agent?) handed her a folder. "So, this is the plot of the movie." She said, opening the folder. "Apparently, it is some big epic romance. It is about the reincarnation of this couple who find each generation when they are in their late teens, but something tragic always happens that keeps them apart or something. So, the ending of the movie is supposed to be with them finally being able to marry and live happily ever after or something." Beca took notes to keep in mind for when she was producing the track for Kyra and this composer.

"Sounds like some real sappy shit." Beca said, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up! Some of us actually have a heart and are romantics," Kyra joked. Beca scoffed, because Kyra had a sex life that was more active than Stacie and Amy's combined. The girl had no desire to be the Mrs. Insert-Name-Here anytime soon. "It sounds like a good movie, and I can't wait to see it. So, apparently the instrumental portion of the song is going to be played throughout the movie, and then the track with vocals will be played during the trailer and during the credits at the beginning and end of the film. That's cool, right?" Beca nodded her head, genuinely happy for Kyra.

"Have you started the lyrics?"

"Well, yes and no. I have a couple of lyrics running through my head, but I need to hear what this guy has written so far. Plus, I need to see a couple of the scenes from the movie to get a feel for the two characters—John and Katherine." Kyra closed the folder and laid it in her lap. "The composer is flying in tomorrow, and he and I are going to meet for coffee to get a feel for each other. Then, he is going to be coming to my place for the next week or so to start on lyrics and music. So, hopefully we will have something to start recording next week sometime?"

"Cool beans," Beca said, checking her planner to see when she had an opening. "Um, I am free next Friday, but I can clear another day if you need me to." She said, swallowing the lump in her throat. Usually, she took of May tenth, because it was the anniversary of the day that she broke things off with Jesse. She needed to get over it, because it had been four years since they had last been together, so she should see that day as nothing more than another day of the year.

"Yeah, pencil us in for that Friday, and I will let you know if we need to switch the day." Kyra said, snapping Beca out of her memories of the Sunday after her graduation when she had broken things off with Jesse and climbed into the cab that took her to the airport and out of Jesse Swanson's life forever. "Okay, so that is everything. Do you wanna meet for lunch later?" Kyra said, handing the folder to whatever team member she had gotten it from originally.

"Yes, please. I schedule myself lunch from one to two-thirty. That work for you? We can hit that vegan place that you love so much."

"I should really become a vegan. It seems like everyone is a vegan or something." Kyra said, standing up.

"Yeah, but you love beef too much." Beca said, rolling her eyes.

"True…I do love beef." Kyra muttered. She walked around Beca's desk to press a kiss to both of the brunette's cheeks. "Love you, darling. See you later." She waved goodbye, leading her posse out the door of Beca's office.

* * *

The next two weeks passed quickly for Beca. She got several texts from Kyra who kept exclaiming just how cute this composer guy was. Apparently, he had a drool-worthy smile, fuck-me brown eyes, and smelled amazing. But, she wasn't Kyra's type, who preferred black guys who were basketball players or football players or baseball players—she liked athletes with very dark skin tones. "He'd be totally perfect for you, Becs," Kyra told her over the phone on Thursday night.

"I'm not interested in dating right now. It is too soon after Ian left."

"It's been a month, Beca. It is time to move on from that jackass. He should have stayed in LA with you if he really loved you so much, but he chose his career over you."

"Yeah, but I chose my career—my life here in LA over him. That is kind of the same thing as what he did."

"Pssh, feminism dictates that women are supposed to choose career over love, and a man should follow you. That woman following the man thing is so over now, Beca."

"That is completely false. Feminism does not dictate that women are supposed to chose career over love or that men should follow women where they want to go. Feminism is about equality, not the superiority of women."

"Well, this feminist thinks women are superior to men." Kyra said, making Beca roll her eyes and laugh at her friend's ridiculousness.

"You're an idiot." Beca muttered. "Goodbye, Kyra. Enjoy your writing session with the hot composer who isn't your type because he isn't an athlete or black."

"Oh, I will. I am going to go on and on about my sexy producer friend who is totally sexy and single and in need of getting laid since her boyfriend left her and moved to Nashville for a male country singer instead of staying here to practice making babies with her."

"God! What is wrong with you!? For one thing, don't talk about my sex life with strangers. Second, that totally makes it sound like Ian is gay, which he's not. He _definitely_ is not gay." Beca said suggestively, making Kyra giggle.

"I will see you tomorrow, love? We are almost done the song. Just a few more run-throughs and a couple of tweaks, and I think we will have the next blockbuster song that will win us an Oscar and a Grammy. See you bright and early, darling."

"Bye, Kyra." Beca said.

"By the way, after tomorrow he won't be a stranger to you, so I plan on talking all about your sex life." Beca groaned, hearing the dial tone before she could even respond to Kyra, indicating that the redhead had hung up on her. Seriously, that girl was a ridiculously big pain in the ass for Beca. Sometimes, she wondered why she liked the girl.

* * *

The next day, Beca climbed out of her car and began heading toward the label, with her big black sunglasses, one of the few dresses she owned (Kyra and Chloe had insisted she buy that weekend that Chloe had visited) that was black and fell mid-thigh on her, with a loose skirt and thin straps, and a pair of black dressy sandals on her feet. Her hair was in loose curls and she wore light eye makeup and dark red lips that matched her manicure and pedicure. The only jewelry she wore was a silver music note necklace. She carried her oversized black purse and sipped a to-go coffee. She was ready to start the day. Her cell phone rang as she made her way down toward the door of the building, so she paused, digging the phone out of the side pocket of her purse. The caller id said that it was Kyra.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Um, can we postpone the meeting a tad bit?"

"Why?" Beca asked slowly, expecting to hear that they threw the song out and needed to start over.

"Well, I am a tad bit hung over because I went out with a basketball player last night for Thirsty Thursday," Beca groaned, listening to Kyra relay the story of her night before. "So, I am like three minutes from puking. Wanna meet me for breakfast at IHOP?"

"Aren't huge celebrity singers supposed to go to restaurants that all of America wish they could afford to eat at and pretend that that is where they are eating when they are in fact sitting in an IHOP?"

"Or a Denny's, but I prefer IHOP to Denny's." Kyra said, making Beca laugh.

"Sure, I can meet you for breakfast. Did you tell The Composer?" Kyra had never told her the guy's name, so Beca had taken to referring to him as The Composer. It sounded ominous and mysterious, which is why Kyra liked it and decided to never tell Beca his real name.

"Oh, yeah, he is meeting us there. I told him that I needed food to soak up the alcohol, and I told him that we could meet there and then head to the studio together. The three of us." Beca could smell the setup. Kyra and The Composer were probably going to take taxis to IHOP, resulting in Beca needing to drive them back to the label's studio. Except, her car didn't seat three comfortably. It sat two and a half comfortably. Thankfully, she and Kyra were both small, so Kyra could pass out in the backseat from her food coma and residual drunkenness, and Beca and The Composer would be in the front seat.

"You know I am currently standing outside of the label, because I had an early morning call time with you two, but someone had to be unprofessional. Speaking of being unprofessional, where is the basketball player now?"

"Asleep in the bed next to me."

"You are such a slut." Beca muttered, turning around and heading back towards her car. "Will he also be joining us at IHOP?"

"Oh, that would be a fun double-date." Kyra cooed, and Beca groaned as she unlocked her car door and placed her bag on the passenger seat before getting into the car. She had just given Kyra a suggestion, which she promised herself she would refrain from doing.

"Which IHOP?" Beca said, starting the car. Kyra told her which one and then hung up on her because the redhead needed to look presentable for the customers and staff of IHOP (and the paparazzi).

Beca parked at the IHOP a few minutes later; once again, she grabbed everything she had been carrying and made her way into the restaurant. She had tossed her coffee out in the trashcan outside of the restaurant's door. She shifted her sunglasses up, scanning the room for her friend and The Composer. "Beca!" She heard, and she followed the sound of Kyra's voice to a table where the redhead was waving her hand. Across from Kyra sat a dark-haired man, who turned around to see who Kyra was calling out to. Fuck. It was Jesse Swanson. Beca's eyes widened, and she almost dropped her purse in shock.

"Jesse?" She said, making her way over to the table. Jesse jumped up, grinning. He pulled her into a hug the moment she got to the table.

"Holy shit, Beca! You look outstanding." He said as he pulled away from the hug. "Wow…"

"You two know each other?" Kyra said, twirling a red curl around her finger, confused. "Shit! So, I didn't have to put off talking about your sex life in front of him! He isn't a stranger after all!" Beca's widened again, and she reached over and smacked Kyra, who yelped and started rubbing her arm. "Bitch!" She muttered.

"Shut up, Kyra!" Beca said, grimacing as she glanced at Jesse out of the corner of her eye. He was smiling, but it was a tense smile that definitely didn't reach his eyes. "Um, Jesse and I…" She paused, unsure what to say. She ran her hand through her hair, biting her bottom lip.

"We dated…" He finally said, and Kyra's eyebrows rose comically high.

"Oh, you're that Jesse!" She said gravely, and Jesse turned to look at Beca who dropped into an empty seat beside the two of them, flagging the waitress who walked by the table at that moment.

"Any chance you can bring me a bottle of vodka?" The woman smiled at Beca and shook her head. "Shit…black coffee then. Fast." She added. The waitress nodded and made her way toward the little counter where the beverages were prepared.

"That Jesse? What kind of moniker is that?"

"Oh, it isn't a bad thing!" Kyra said, waving him off. "She just told me that she was a slut like me until she met you, and then you somehow got her to be in a relationship for three years, and then you guys broke up the day after graduation and then she figured out she couldn't be a tramp again. No matter how hard I tried, believe me." Kyra said, rolling her eyes as she opened the menu to peruse the options. "Mmmm! Bacon!" She muttered to herself. Jesse's brow furrowed, and he turned to look at Beca, who just shook her head. "So, here I was trying to set you two up, because you are beyond perfect for each other, since it never would have worked out between us, darling, because you ain't black and you ain't a professional athlete, but she kept going on and on about how it was too soon after she dumped Ian's ass and decided not to move to Nashville and become a country bumpkin." Beca's eyes closed as she listened to her friend go on and on about her relationship with Ian, who Kyra, apparently, always thought was kind of douche and full of himself. "Seriously, you have a huge ego, too, Jesse, but this guy was without a doubt a total asshole. The only thing he had going for him was his body, and his eyes—so blue—and the blonde hair."

"If you said he had a British accent, he would have reminded me of someone we knew at Barden."

"Nope, no British accent. He was Canadian, I think?" Kyra said, looking at Beca for confirmation.

"Close, he was from Michigan." Beca said, laughing at Kyra's ridiculousness and potential idiocy, and Kyra just shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, this isn't sufficiently awkward for me to listen to," Jesse muttered. The waitress returned with Beca's black coffee and took their drink and breakfast orders.

"I'm sorry. Kyra's a bitch and doesn't know when to turn off the motor mouth." Beca said, frowning. "So…yeah…four years…today…" She said after a moment, and Jesse looked at her in surprise.

"Really?" He was shocked that she remembered the anniversary of the day they ended their relationship.

"I remember because the ninth was graduation." She told him, not admitting to the fact that this day was the hardest day for her in the last four years (well, that and his birthday, but she always wished him a happy birthday on Facebook and through email). Kyra didn't appear to be paying attention to them, because she was on her phone, typing away about a mile a minute.

"So, Jesse, do you have a girlfriend?" She asked after a moment, setting the phone down. Jesse looked at the redhead in surprise.

"Um…no." He said after a moment.

"Good! So, I have to take a piss. Why don't you two catch up?" She stood up and grabbed her purse and cell phone from the table again. "Be back in…well, might have to throw up, too, so this could take awhile." She told them, making Beca groan.

"I hate her sometimes." She said to Jesse as they watched the redhead head toward the bathroom.

"She reminds me of Fat Amy, Stacie, and Chloe all at once." Jesse said after a moment.

"Holy shit, if that isn't an accurate description of Kyra!" Beca ran her hand through her hair.

"So…how have you been?" He asked awkwardly.

"Good," she said quickly, smiling at him. "I love my job. I love my apartment. I love working with Kyra and the other artists at the label. I love LA."

"Is that why you didn't go with Ian to Nashville?" He asked, and Beca nodded her head.

"I didn't want to give up everything I have here for a new city." She told him. He gave her a tight smile. "He and I…we were great, but we weren't…he wasn't enough." She said after a moment.

"Yeah, well…I think I heard that before." She reached out to lay a hand on his arm.

"Jesse, you were different." She whispered, frowning. "You were worth more." She paused, not sure how to explain her decision four years prior. "Sometimes I regret breaking things off, but I don't think we would be where we are today if it weren't for the breakup. I would have been too concerned about you and your education at NYU and what girls you were around, and I don't know if I would have been able to focus here. I don't think I would have been able to get to the place I am in now without losing you." He nodded his head, not looking at her. She removed her hand from his arm and lifted her coffee mug to her lips.

"Yeah, I get it…" He said quietly.

"I don't think you do," Beca told him seriously. "I loved you, Jesse. I…it was the hardest thing I ever had to do to leave you. That first year was awful. There were so many nights that I cried myself to sleep, wishing that I could call you. I didn't though, because I knew it would be harder on you…and me. I knew that I needed to hear about your life, which is why I kept up with you only through emails and Facebook. I just…I couldn't cut you out of my life completely when you had been such a huge part of it for four years."

"I get it, Beca." He told her. The waitress arrived then, placing their orders down in front of them, leaving Kyra's at her empty seat. "I'm glad things worked out for you."

"They worked out for you, too! You are composing for a big movie, co-writing a hit song with _the_ Kyra Carter. Congrats, Jesse, seriously! You were so talented, so I know you deserve all of this." She smiled at him, and he blushed, rolling his eyes at her praise.

"Thanks," he said, smiling, as he cut his French toast. She glanced around the restaurant and noticed that there were a lot of women staring at Jesse. She ignored the twinge of jealousy in her stomach (she had no claim to him now, after four years of being apart), and she carefully glanced over at him to take in his appearance. His hair was a little shorter than when she had seen him last. His face had lost the last of its' baby-fat and was now much more defined. The rest of his body was much more defined, as well. He was really good-looking. She couldn't blame the women in the IHOP for staring at him. Beca could tell that some of them were talking about him (or possibly it was because the two of them were seated at the table where Kyra Carter was sitting at).

"So, tell me about the life of Jesse Swanson." She said after a moment, as she chewed a bite of her food. He looked up at her. "You know all about me and Ian and my life here in LA, so tell me about your life in New York."

"Well, I am thinking about moving out here. The movie is being filmed out here, and I want to be close to it to get a feel for it all. Plus, I have been meeting with other directors and producers about composing for their films that are in the process of casting. So, there could be a lot of big things here in LA for me."

"Oh, wow…" Beca said, surprised. Was serendipity finally stepping in? She tried to close her mind off of such thoughts.

"Yeah," Jesse responded. "As for exes…" He shrugged. "There wasn't really any one girl for me over the years. I dated a couple of people, but none of them really stuck."

"So, you became a player?" She said, cocking an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food.

"I like to think of myself as being hard to get." He said simply, and she scoffed.

"Also known as a player," she sang quietly to him. He laughed.

"Hey! It's not my fault that no girl was able to catch me! I'm a great catch, but no girl seemed to be able to snag me…" Beca just stared at him. "What? I'm a really good catch. Handsome, charming, funny, a total sex god, debonair, handsome, _really_ good in bed, awesome, handsome, talented _in_ and _out_ of bed, awesome voice, hot as shit, and I make a decent amount of money. Did I mention that I was good-looking and great in bed?" He joked.

"I think you repeated that a few _too_ _many_ times. You also left out egotistical and a total asshole." She said, cocking her head to the side.

"Nah, I don't see that." He said after scratching the back of his head. He laughed again, focusing on his food.

Beca hated him in that moment. He was all of the things he described himself as being; he was an outstanding catch. He was like the perfect boyfriend during the three years they were together. He was amazing, and any woman he chose to spend his time with was lucky. He had done exactly what he set out to do, too; he was moving people with his music. Shit, she couldn't think like this! It was too much after four years, and things with Ian hadn't been over long enough for her to start throwing herself at someone new (or, well, rather an old someone, but that is just semantics). "Um, I better go see if Kyra fell into the toilet and drowned in her own urine and vomit." She said, standing up and making her way towards the bathroom. She found Kyra sitting on the counter, texting on her phone. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Giving you two some time to catch up," she said, shoving her phone into her purse. "How cold is my food?"

"Really cold. Let's go. It's awkward to sit alone at the same table as my ex-boyfriend."

"Well, that is because he is the one you _let_ get away." Kyra said to her as she hopped off the counter. "I'm starving. I don't even care that I am eating cold bacon." She said, moving past Beca to head back to their table.

* * *

After breakfast, they head back to the label (Beca was right; Kyra, especially after learning about Jesse and Beca's past, insisted that he was too tall to sit in the backseat, but she was almost as tiny as Beca, so she would fit comfortably in the backseat of Beca's sports car). They recorded Jesse's instrumental parts individually (on two guitars, keyboard, the bass, and the drums—fuck, he knew how to play that many instruments?), and then Kyra's vocals were recorded. "No male vocals?" Beca asked at the end of the session when they listened to a rough copy of all the parts layered with each other.

Kyra looked at her in surprise. Jesse just shrugged his shoulders, though. "What?" Kyra asked, running a hand through her hair. "Do you think it isn't good? Does it need a male voice? I don't know who we could call in at the last minute…" She said, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her contacts. "Oh, maybe Justin would be free?"

"Timberlake or Bieber?" Jesse asked. Beca ignored him and focused on Kyra.

"I love the song. Seriously, it is gorgeous. You sound the best I have ever heard you, Kiki, but the movie is about star-crossed lovers, right? They are reincarnated over and over and over, because each time something happens that keeps them apart. So, I just think that it would be more powerful if there were a male vocal part…" She refused to look at Jesse, who was staring at her.

"Wait? Have you actually found appreciation for movies?" He asked, and Beca rolled her eyes at him.

"Please!" Kyra scoffed, looking up from her phone to cock an eyebrow at Jesse. "She hates movies with a passion. The only movie she ever agrees to watch with me is _The Breakfast Club_." Jesse smiled, looking at Beca. The brunette blushed and crinkled her nose. She hadn't told Kyra about Jesse and their a cappella groups and her serenading him with the Simple Minds.

"Anyways," Beca said quickly. "Jesse can sing it." She told Kyra. This time, Jesse groaned running a hand over his face.

"What? You can sing?" Kyra asked, shocked. "I mean, I guess I should have realized. You did hum along when we were writing and you did give some insight about the lyrics."

"I'm not a singer." He said pointedly, looking at Beca.

"Are you kidding? You used to serenade me constantly during college." She crossed her arms.

"I wasn't the only one…" Jesse responded.

"You sing?" Kyra asked Beca, even more shocked than hearing about Jesse's singing ability.

"We did a cappella in college." Jesse told Kyra, who burst out laughing.

"Beca? A cappella? You're kidding, right?" She said, wiping at her cheeks.

"Nope. She serenaded me at our Finals competition, and that is how we started dating." Jesse grinned at the memory.

"That is so cute!" Kyra said, clapping her hands.

"Yeah, well, he used to sing to me all of the time while on stage. And, the first time I saw this kid, he was singing to me from the backseat of his car. He even air-guitared at me like a total idiot." Beca rolled her eyes. Jesse started singing _Carry on, My Wayward Son_ like he did on their first day at college, directing it toward Beca, who blushed bright red and started smacking him. "Shut up!"

"Holy shit! He is good! God! Beca, please tell me you are going to tap that…again?" Kyra said, winking. Both Beca and Jesse immediately sobered up, getting uncomfortable. "Shit, you two are total prudes." She scoffed. "It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before. Just screw and get it over with. The sexual tension is exhausting. I'm about to call my basketball player friend from last night…" She said, fanning herself. Beca stuck her tongue out at the redhead. "So, Miss Brilliant Producer, where do you think we should do a male vocal part?"

"Um, right, so I was thinking that maybe we could have Jesse sing the chorus, obviously. Then, the bridge here." She grabbed the sheet music and circled the parts she was talking about with a pencil. "Then, maybe some background vocals for the verses. Like, extending the phrases. Here, for example, when you sing this line, he could repeat these three words. But, delayed, like when you sing a round. Like, _Row Your Boat_?" Kyra was eating it up, nodding her head.

"This is great…you're brilliant, Becs." Jesse just groaned again. "Shut up. You're singing, too! She is right! This should be a duet, sort of…" Kyra said, grabbing his hand. "C'mon! Let's rerecord the vocals." Beca handed Jesse the sheet music, and she watched the two of them head into the sound booth. She was amazed at how great Kyra and Jesse sounded together when they were singing together on the choruses, and when Jesse was supporting Kyra during the verses. Him, alone, on the bridges, were her favorite parts of the song, because it reminded her of one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him eight years ago. Shit, had it really been eight years since she was a jaded bitch who was constantly harassed by this goofy, movie-loving idiot?

Beca looked away from him, as the two of them recorded the song a few times until they felt confident with the vocals. She began layering the best vocal track with the rest of Jesse's instrumentals tracks. The two of them came out of the booth, talking about Kyra's new sailboat. Beca ignored them, focusing on her computer, layering the tracks and making slight adjustments. "So, how's it sound?" Kyra asked, leaning over Beca's shoulder to look at the computer. The brunette made a final adjustment and then played it for them. The song was great before, but now it sounded way better, because the addition of the male vocals played into the never-ending love theme of both the song and the movie. "Wow! Beca, that is brilliant." Kyra wrapped her arms around Beca's neck and pressed a loud kiss to her cheek. "I love you, hun! This is totally going to win me another Grammy and an Oscar. I can be the next Adele!" She kissed Beca's cheek again.

"Get off me! I can't breathe." Beca muttered, but she stood up and gave Kyra a better hug. "I love you, too, Kiki." She rolled her eyes and let the redhead go. She turned to Jesse and gave him a shy smile. "You sounded amazing, Jess." She leaned forward to give him a quick hug, but Jesse tightened his hold on her waist, holding her close for much longer than she had intended. Fuck, it felt good to be in his arms.

"Did you know that Jesse can sail?" Kyra said, when they finally broke apart. Beca turned and looked at the redhead, confused. "You keep telling me how much you wanna go out on my boat, but since I haven't found a hot black captain to sail it for me, I was thinking you two could take it out tomorrow…" Beca glared at the redhead. "Seriously…I am busy with some publicity shit, or else I would go to, but you two can totally use my boat."

"Kyra!" Beca groaned, but Jesse laughed.

"I would love to take your boat out, Kyra…would you like to join me, Beca?" He asked her, and Beca bit her lip. After a moment, she nodded her head, and he smiled. "Great. I will pick you up tomorrow morning at nine. You are on breakfast duty, and I will be on lunch duty." They were going to be out there for that long? Shit…that was the only thing that seemed to go through her head.

* * *

The next day, Beca was waiting with a box of donuts (she wasn't exactly a gourmet chef), fruit salad, and a couple bottles of orange juice for both of them. She jumped at the knock on her front door. She was dressed in a pair of khaki linen Capri pants, a white tank top, and a light blue button up t-shirt that she left open. On her feet was a pair of dark brown flip flops. She sported white sunglasses and hat. She thought she looked pretty good for a sailing trip. When she opened the door, she saw that Jesse was in a pair of gray board shorts, flip flops, and a t-shirt, with a pair of sunglasses. "Um, tell me you own a bathing suit…" He said, smiling. She nodded her head, letting him into her house.

"Do I need one?" He laughed, shrugging.

"Well, we are going to be out there all day. Today's perfect weather for swimming and sunbathing, so you might want to; it's your choice, though."

"Okay, I will go grab a towel and change into my bathing suit." She made her way into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She pulled off her clothing and grabbed her light blue bikini from her drawer. She dressed in the bikini and quickly pulled her clothes back on. She went into her closet to grab her beach bag that had a beach towel, her beach iPod (what? It has all of her beachy-inspired music on it), sunscreen, and lip balm. She went over to her bedside table where she had a couple of magazines that she subscribed that had come in the mail recently. She stuffed them into the bag and then made her way out of her room. She pulled her hair up into a loose bun and then grabbed the bag that she had made up with their breakfast.

Jesse was standing in her living room, looking at her pictures that she had displayed all over her house. Pictures of her and Kyra, her and work friends, her and the other artists she had worked with, her and her parents, her and the Bellas, group shots with both the Bellas and the Trebles (with a couple of pictures of her and him tucked against each other or looking at each other or with Jesse pressing a kiss to her head or cheek), a picture of her, her parents and Sheila, Jesse, and Jesse's parents at graduation. Then, there were a lot of pictures of her and Ian. She hadn't taken them down yet, because she was still mourning their relationship. "He looks a lot like Luke." He told her, but she didn't know how to respond. "Ready?" She nodded, and he came forward to grab the bags from her. She grabbed her keys and cell phone from her counter and followed him, locking the door behind her.

An hour later, Jesse was steering the boat into the water, while Beca was seated nearby, eating donuts and fruit. After a little while, Jesse stopped the boat and made his way over to sit beside her. "Donuts?" He laughed, and she shrugged.

"They're good. And I didn't make them, so I won't accidentally kill the only person who will be able to get me home." This made Jesse laugh harder. They started talking about random things as they ate and relaxed. The conversation turned to the past. She talked about Chloe and Kyra, and how close they had gotten. She talked about going to visit Amy and her husband, Cory, in their home in Georgia. She talked about how Aubrey had invited her to her wedding the following September. She talked about how Stacie had a baby the year before, a little boy by the name of Robert, but she didn't know who the dad was. He talked about Donald and Benji and some of the other Trebles. The conversation went from talking about their old friends in the present to remember the time this happened and that happened when they were in college.

"Remember that snowstorm that we got caught in when we went to visit Chloe in Philly our sophomore year?" Jesse said, laughing. "Who all went? You, me, Stacie, Lilly…" He trailed off. Beca smiled at the memory.

"Um, Amy—remember she and Stacie hit on that bartender and got us free drinks?" She laughed. "I think you didn't want to be the only guy, so you made Benji go with us. I think that was everyone." She paused, remembering how they had all gotten caught in a snow storm while they were walking through the streets. "You gave me your coat…" She said after a moment.

"Yeah, well, you were freezing and it was snowing."

"I wasn't expecting a snowstorm in October," she whispered, staring into the water.

"Hey, it's what boyfriends do…" Jesse said, and then he sighed. "That night, um…"

"That was the first night that we slept together. I am surprised you actually got me to wait that long." Beca said, laughing off the awkwardness of their discussion of the past.

"Hey, I thought it would be romantic to wait until we said I love you. I am just relieved that you finally said it, because I was having killer blue ball since April." Beca rolled her eyes, smacking Jesse's arm.

"That was your fault. If I remember correctly, I tried my hardest to seduce you all throughout those six months we were together."

"Yes, I know…" Jesse groaned at the memories. "It nearly killed me, but I wanted to wait until you broke down the last of your walls. I wanted it to be special, because you were special." Beca bit her bottom lip, looking away from him. They were silent for awhile. She pulled out her iPod, and some magazines. Jesse laughed, grabbing a book from the bag he brought. They spent about an hour just reading and listening to music.

Beca began to get warm, so she carefully removed her layers and began applying suntan lotion to her front. She bit her lip as she stretched out her towel. "Um, Jess, can you put lotion on my back?" He swallowed and nodded his head. She laid out on the towel, and Jesse carefully squirted some lotion into his hands. He began rubbing the lotion on her shoulders and upper back. He hesitated before sliding his hands beneath the strings that were tied around her neck and back. He added more suntan lotion and began applying it to her lower back and sides. Beca didn't breathe the entire time that he was rubbing the lotion into her skin.

"Um, do you want me to get your legs, too?" She nodded carefully, closing her eyes. Jesse hesitated again. It was almost like he was acting like a teenager who had never touched a girl before. He had been up close and personal with every inch of her body, so she didn't know why he was so careful about touching her. At the same time, she understood, because it felt like fireworks were erupting all over her body whenever his hands touched her. Jesse began applying the lotion to her calves. He carefully made his way up her legs. He avoided rubbing the lotion into the skin of her inner thighs. He pulled his hands off of her the moment he was done, rubbing the left over lotion into his arms.

"Do you want me to…?" Beca asked, pointing to the lotion. Jesse shrugged, reaching down to pull his shirt off. She tried to hide her reaction to his body—because, holy shit, did the last four years work in his favor. She moved to kneel behind him. She squirted some of the lotion into her hands, carefully laying her hands onto his lower back. She rubbed the lotion into his skin, feeling his muscles beneath his skin. She carefully made her way up his back. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. "Did you want me to get your legs?" He shook his head, turning around to face her. He took the lotion from her hands.

"Nah, I've got it." He sat back, rubbing the lotion over his chest and stomach. Beca was thankful for her sunglasses, because it hid the way her eyes followed the path of his hands. She stretched back out on the towel, grabbing another magazine. She grimaced slightly when she saw it was Cosmo. Whatever, she could read about the best sex positions to get a killer orgasm next to him. No biggie. She flipped through the magazine, reading the article on Kyra, who went on and on about her inability and lack of desire to settle down even though she was nearing her thirties (she still had a few years to go before she was actually thirty, but everyone in America was so obsessed with age, especially when it comes to women and having children). Jesse was lying beside her on the towel, reading his book.

Beca tried to breathe calmly when she turned to a page on different sex positions to try. She tried to hide her blush, flipping through the pages quickly. She felt Jesse glance at her, and she froze. After a moment, he dropped the book, muttering, "fuck it." He slid a hand along her cheek and into her hair, pulling her face towards his to kiss her. She gasped into the kiss, allowing him to slide his tongue into her mouth. She sighed into the kiss, letting her body take over and kissing him back. He shifted her onto her back, leaning over her kiss, deepening the kiss.

Beca felt like her heart was about to explode. She had changed so much since they had broken up. While she had broken down all of her walls, _twice_, she had also built them high around herself, because she had not only lost him, but she had also lost Ian. She felt like a scared little girl kissing her crush for the first time. She shouldn't be doing this. Fuck, she had to stop this. She couldn't bring herself to pull away from him, though, and she moaned when his hand slid beneath one of the cups of her bikini top. His hand was so warm against her breast, and it felt so good to have him touch her. Beca tried to clear her head enough to stop this. It was too much, too soon. Too soon after seeing him. Too soon after things with Ian left. They were just doing this, because they were caught up in the past—their past. Yesterday was the anniversary of their breakup, as well as the first time they had seen each other in four years. That was just…so much had happened in the last four years. She couldn't do this—with him. Right? Fuck, he was such a good kisser.

Jesse had the drool-worthy grin that attracted her to him from the moment they first met—his confidence was sexy, even though he wasn't the hottest guy that she had ever dated or could date (um, Luke was definitely hotter, even if he did have an accent—Beca just wasn't into accents). Then, his eyes. God, his eyes were the most amazing chocolate brown—they made her melt like she was a piece of chocolate in the hot sun or that was held in a person's hand for too long. He always stood by her, even when she pushed him away repeatedly, saying hurtful things to him. She had so many walls up, and yet he still stayed; he was patient with her, staying with her when there were so many other girls out there that he could go for that would happily let him be in their lives. He waited for her to finally break down the last of her walls—waited until she said that she loved him and was able to hear him say that he loved her without freaking out. Sure, she did push him away not too long after that (she broke up with him about a week after their confession of love for each other and the first time they had sex, because she freaked out). And, again, she pushed him away the following year when Chloe asked Beca to be her maid-of-honor for her wedding with the guy from their shower session together two years prior to that (Chloe had hinted that this could be her and Jesse sometime in the future). The engagement didn't last (apparently, he didn't realize that engagement and marriage meant you didn't try to have sex with the entire wedding party of your future bride), though. Their senior year, the fight was stupid that led to their first breakup. But, each time that they broke up, Jesse came back to her, stood by her, even though he shouldn't have most of the time. The only time he didn't—couldn't—was the breakup the day after their graduation.

Beca broke the kiss, pushing gently on Jesse's chest. "Shit, we can't do this," she said, pulling away from him to readjust her bathing suit top. She buried her face in her hands, groaning.

"Well, that sucked…" He muttered beside her. She shook her head, not knowing what to do or say to make him feel better. "You were pretty into it…so…what the hell happened?" She knew that he was trying to figure out what was going through her head, and she didn't want him to feel guilty or hurt.

"I was, but…I'm…you…Jesse, you just showed up in my life for the first time in four years. I just broke up with my ex-boyfriend. I'm not exactly ready to jump into whatever the hell this is." She said after a moment, trying to calm herself down.

"Oh, right, the love of your life."

"He wasn't!" She said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Yes, I loved Ian. Would we still be together now if he had chosen to stay in LA? Yes. But, when we were met with the decision of whether or not to stay with each other—one of us giving up our jobs and futures for the other—we realized that neither one of us were ready for that. Just like, four years ago, I wasn't ready to give up LA to move to New York with you, nor was I ready for you to give up your future to follow me to LA. I didn't want that on my conscience, always wondering if you resented me for giving up NYU. I didn't want to grow to hate you, because I put off LA again for the second time in four years. I was too young then to make that kind of decision with you. And, this time I wasn't in love enough to do that with Ian." Beca hated showing emotion, because it made her feel weak, especially with the man who was sitting beside her, staring at her in a way she didn't even want to take a moment to start figuring out. She stood up and started yanking on her clothing. "I'm sorry if I hurt you four years ago. I hurt me, too, but I couldn't stay with you then. I couldn't be apart from you and still be in a relationship with you. It was too much. And, I'm sorry if I am hurting you now, but I am not ready to just forget about everything that has happened over the last four years and sleep with you when we have known each other as the people we are now for only five fucking minutes." When she was fully dressed, she turned to face him. "Can you take me back now?" She tried to hide her tears behind her sunglasses and steely disposition. This was way too much for her right now.

"Yeah," Jesse stood up and made his way towards the controls of the boat. He paused beside Beca, but she turned away from him, no longer willing to talk about this anymore. He sighed and made his way past her.

* * *

As soon as they arrived back at the shore, Beca grabbed all of her stuff and flagged down a cab. She told the driver to take her to the closest bar, because she aspired to get wasted. She wanted to forget about earlier that day with Jesse. It hurt too much. This was all too much. She didn't want to still be in love with him. She was afraid of how much he had changed. He had gone on and on the day before about how he was a bit of a player now, and their make out session earlier was definitely en route to a hookup. She knew that he had changed her seven years ago when she decided to be a girlfriend and to stop sleeping around, and she was afraid their breakup four years before had turned him into the kind of guy who gave up on love. It was strange to her how reversed their roles were at the moment. She was the one who wanted a relationship? He was the one who might only be interested in a fling? She didn't expect that when she finally saw him for the first time in years. She couldn't even describe how different he had turned out to be. This was not the Jesse she expected to come across—but at the same time, he was. She was far to confused by everything, which only made her want to drink more.

A few hours later, Beca was sufficiently buzzed and decided that it was time for her to finally head home. She asked the bartender to call her a cab and carefully climbed off the stool, which was kind of difficult, considering how much she had to drink. Her head was swimming, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to her house and pass out in her bed. She readjusted her bag over her shoulder and stumbled her way out of the bar. She climbed into the cab and told the driver her address. When she climbed out of the cab after it had pulled up in front of her house, she was surprised to see Jesse sitting on her doorstep, just as he did every time they fought and every time he wanted to get back together with her following their brief breakups. She handed the cab driver a wad of cash and carefully walked up her front walk, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Jesus, Beca. Are you drunk?" He said, jumping up to catch her when she stumbled. She pulled away from him and reached out to steady herself on the railing for the steps that up to her door. She paused for a moment before making her way up them.

"It doesn't matter. I just…I need to go to bed." She whispered. She leaned against her door and started digging through her bag. "Keys…keys…where are my keys?" She muttered to herself.

"Shit," Jesse came over and pulled the bag from her arm. He found her keys in the side pocket and unlocked the door to her house. He pulled Beca against his side in order to open the door. He stuck her bag inside of her door and proceeded to pick her up. He carried her through her house and into her bedroom, where he set her down on her bed. "He started digging through her drawers, finding an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, tossing them onto her bed. Beca was holding her head, groaning in pain. "Come here," Jesse said, pulling her into his arms again. He led her to her en suite bathroom and started the shower to get the water to warm up. He helped her pull off both of their clothing, aside from their bathing suits. After checking the water, he pulled her into the shower with him.

Jesse sat down on the floor of the shower, holding her in his arms as he let the water run over her. He reached up and adjusted the water so that it was cooler, trying to clear her head. "You feeling okay?" He asked her, and Beca figured it was to make sure that she didn't throw up on him. She nodded her head, before laying it on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered after a moment.

"Yeah, no problem," he told her, running a hand through her hair. "Let me know when you think you are ready to get some sleep." She nodded her head, not lifting it from his shoulder. After about ten more minutes, Jesse shifted an almost asleep Beca. "C'mon. Let's get you dried off and changed." He helped her up and turned off the shower, helping her out of the tub. He grabbed one of her towels from the hooks on her walls and proceeded to dry her body off. "Alright, time to lose the suit." He closed his eyes and held the towel up to her body, allowing her to carefully pull of her bathing suit. She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself.

"I'm covered." Jesse opened his eyes and took in the sight of her in only a towel, and Beca could tell that he was replaying images of their past together. "Thanks."

"So, you should go change, and I will dry off in here."

"I think I have some of your old clothes from Barden in a box in my basement." His eyebrows rose. "What? I may have kept some of your t-shirts and sweatpants and boxers. They were the clothes I would always wear to bed when we were together."

"When did you stop wearing them?" He asked her, and then she could tell that he immediately regretted asking the question.

"About a month into my relationship with Ian," Beca said. "I knew that eventually he and I were going to…get closer…and I couldn't exactly have my ex-boyfriend's clothing in my drawers. So, I packed them away with old Barden stuff." Jesse swallowed. She moved away then, not trusting herself or him to say something that wouldn't confuse her further. This was already messed up enough. She closed the door behind her and quickly dropped the towel to pull the t-shirt and sweatpants on. She wrapped her hair in the towel and made her way out of her room to the stairs by her kitchen to get some of his clothes out of storage in the basement. She opened one of the plastic bins labeled as Barden—Jesse. Inside were pictures and mementos from their time together, as well as some of his old clothing. She grabbed a pair of his boxers, a pair of his old Treble sweatpants, and a t-shirt, reclosing the box. She made her way upstairs with the clothing, leaving them on her bed. Jesse opened the door then, with one of her towels wrapped around his hips. She smiled at him, and saw behind him that he had hung their bathing suits over the bar that held her shower curtain. She left the clothes on the bed and then left her room again, walking to the kitchen to start drinking water and taking some meds to prevent a hangover the next morning (or later tonight? Whenever she woke up…).

Five minutes later, Beca made her way back towards her bedroom. She knocked on the door, and Jesse opened the door, dressed in his old clothes. They were a tiny bit snugger, since four years had passed since he last wore them, but it wasn't too bad. "Um, hi," she whispered. He smiled.

"Um, well, thanks for letting me borrow my own clothes…" She rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna go…so, feel better."

"Wait…um, wanna stay and watch a movie?" She was feeling a little better, but she knew that she needed to get some sleep. She knew they needed to talk about earlier, and she knew that she would be too chicken to get hold of him later after she woke up, so she hoped that if he was still here when she woke up, then maybe they could talk then. She wouldn't be able to avoid it.

"I thought you still hated movies?"

"I do," Beca said as she passed him. "There are only two movies I like…well, one movie and one genre that I like."

"Oh?" Jesse asked. She turned around when she reached the hidden TV she had in her armoire.

"Yeah, _The Breakfast Club_ and porn, duh." She joked alluding to their conversation their freshman year in college on the quad. He laughed, his head falling back.

"You are such an idiot," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I would rather be an idiot then a weirdo."

"Really?"

"Yeah, idiots can at least learn they are idiots and then try their hardest to become better informed and make better decisions. Weirdoes are just weird and can't exactly lose that." She leaned over and grabbed the remote for the DVD player. She opened the doors of the armoire to uncover the TV.

"Um, I think that weirdoes can lose some of their strangeness. If not, that can be seen as charming. Benji is the perfect definition of a weirdo, and he is terribly charming."

"Actually, close up magic is really cool. Being a movie nerd? Not so much." She climbed onto her bed and settled back in the pillows, turning on the TV and getting the DVD player ready.

"Ha ha." He glanced at the TV screen, which had loaded the opening screen for _The Breakfast Club_. "You don't even have to put it in?"

"I only watch one movie, Jesse. There is no need for me to ever take the DVD out. Are you going to stand there the whole time or are you going to sit down and watch the movie with me?"

"Shit, there have been so many amazing movies out over the years. Does this mean I need to start your movication again?" He said, walking around her bed to climb into it beside her. She hit play and smiled as her favorite (and really, the only one she will ever be able to watch without feeling slightly bored) movie began. Jesse watched her mostly. Beca yawned a few times, finding it really hard to stay awake, considering how much she had to drink earlier. He grabbed her and pulled her against his chest, letting her fall asleep against his chest.

* * *

Two hours later, Beca awoke, feeling slightly groggy and a little sick. She groaned, burying her face into his chest. "How are you feeling?"

"I have a bit of a headache." Jesse nodded, running a hand through her hair. "Thanks for staying with me."

"I figured you wanted to talk. Do you feel sick to your stomach?" She shook her head.

"I need something to soak up the alcohol in my stomach."

"Then, let's get you some hangover food." Beca sat up carefully, frowning at him.

"Like what?"

"Pizza?" She shrugged. Nothing like greasy food to make her stomach feel a little more settled. "I'll take that as a no. Um, what about pancakes?" Beca grinned. "Pancakes it is." Jesse stood up and held a hand out to her. She climbed out of the bed with his help, and they made their way to the kitchen, where he was able to scramble together the ingredients to make pancakes from her sparse amount of groceries.

They ate in comfortable silence, and she could tell he was waiting for her to start. "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I yelled at you, and it wasn't fair. I was freaking out. I put up walls again, instead of just talking to you about what was going through my head." She ran a hand through her hair. "I didn't expect to see you again, and I think I got loaded down with a lot of memories about our past. I also think that I was really caught up in being upset about failing with Ian." She held up her hand when she saw that he wanted to speak. "Please…let me finish?" He nodded his head, so she took a deep breath before she began speaking again. "I felt like a failure, because it was my first relationship since you and I broke up. I didn't want to be the girl I was before I went to Barden. I didn't want to be lonely and miserable all of the time, and I was for the first time in four since I had met you. Sure, I had friends from work, and the Bellas, and I kept up with Benji. And, later Kyra and I became like best friends." She looked down at her plate, using her fork to slide the remaining soggy pieces of pancake through the syrup and melted butter on the plate. "But, I went from having the Bellas to talk to everyday and you…" She paused.

"You were a huge part of my life—way bigger than the rest of them. I just…I couldn't get it out of my head that it was my fault that you were no longer a part of my life. Then, I got my big break and I began working with Kyra, and I used her and work as a way to forget about the whole that you left when I broke things off. I dated people, but I could never get to the point where I felt comfortable being that girl who could sleep around again, and I wasn't ready to be the girl who was in relationships either. It sucked, and I felt really lost. Then, I met Ian. It was easy with him, because we had so much in common. Somehow, that turned into a relationship. Then, after a year and two months together, we reached the point where we had to make a big decision about whether or not we wanted to stay together. We both wanted what we wanted, but not enough to give up our lives and our dreams for the other person. I felt like a failure, because I thought that I finally had moved on from the memory of our relationship. But, I failed at the first relationship I had that wasn't ours. It psyched me out, because I couldn't help but think that maybe I am too broken, and the only person that ever seemed to be able to understand me or work well with me was you. I mean, I couldn't get into a relationship with any of the other guys I dated—and there were a lot of great guys that I went on a few dates with—but none of them clicked. Then, one clicks, and we end up breaking up so soon after our start?" She stood up and grabbed her plate, ready to start cleaning up.

"Becs," Jesse began, but Beca shook her head. She wasn't ready to hear him yet. She needed to keep talking. She set about cleaning up their dishes. After a few moments, she was ready to speak again.

"Then, you walk back into my life on a day that I normal am miserable on, because it was the day that represented the best and worst decision that I ever made, and it took me by surprise. I was so caught up in everything that happened to us before, that I barely took the time to think about what has happened to us since then. Sure, we glazed over those conversations. A few minutes worth of 'I'm doing this, and I dated that person;' we didn't really take the time to get to know each other as the people we are now. We let ourselves get caught up in the memories and go back to old habits." She shook her head, finishing with the dishes and setting them in the drying wrack by her sink. "Don't get me wrong, Jess; it was amazing to kiss you and be close to you again, but it was too much too quickly. I just…I don't know what you want or what your plans are or what I want or anything. I'm afraid that this time I am going to put my heart on the line, and it's not going to work out."

Jesse stood up and made his way over to her. He pulled Beca into his arms, burying his face into her neck. She returned his hug, laying her cheek against his heart, listening to it beat. "When you asked me to bring us back here, and you disappeared, I felt like shit. I knew that I needed to find you and make things right between us, so I came here. I pounded on your door, but you didn't answer. I tried your phone, and you didn't answer. I called Kyra, and she said that she hadn't heard from you." He said all of the words into her neck, making her squirm. "So, I waited. I sat down and waited for you, and I couldn't help but remember all of the times that I did that before after we broke. I thought about the past, and how much I had missed you since we broke up. I thought about how you said that it would be fate or God or whatever that would bring us back into each other's lives. I knew that that is what happened for us. I knew that this was my second chance to be with you. So, I waited, because I knew eventually you would come home. I knew that eventually I could make you see that I'm here. It felt like I was waiting an eternity—seriously, two hours feels so much longer than it is. But, I realized that I would wait forever for you to come back into my life. I'm here, Beca. I'm here, and I don't want to let you go ever again."

Beca looked up at him, giving him a small smile. Jesse reached up and wiped the tears that slid down her cheeks from her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her toes, pulling his face to hers so that she could kiss him. This time, there was nothing in her head telling her to stop, because she knew that he would be there for the rest of her life. She was sure of it.

* * *

**Fun fact: this is the second one-shot where I never use the title in some capacity. I didn't once reference the word 'daydreamer,' just as I didn't reference 'holy ground' in that one-shot. Alright, time to shut up, AB. Please review, and let me know what you think!**


	13. Teenage Dream

**Teenage Dream**

**A ****_Pitch Perfect _****Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: ****_Teenage Dream_**** by Katy Perry**

**Author's Note: This song was suggested by** jessica . yip . 792. **(This is the only way that FF would let me add your name!) T****hank you so much for the suggestion! I have gotten quite a few suggestions for this series! I love it! Keep them coming, everyone. I hope that you like this one. **

* * *

Saying goodbye to Jesse on the last day of finals her freshman year was one of the hardest things that Beca had to do. He had been her best friend since about October of the school year, minus about two months total when they had their fights (most of it, a month and a half to be exact, taking place between the Semi-Finals and Finals competitions), and now, after three weeks of being _together_, she had to say goodbye to him?After her conversation with her dad after spring break, she was planning on spending the summer break with her dad, working at a local grocery store and AMC movie theater (yes, she was aware of the irony of a girl who hated movies working at a movie theater, but she figured she could give her free AMC tickets that came with the job to Jesse as an incentive to come visit her) six of the seven days of the week (her day off being Saturdays so that she could spend a whole weekend day with Jesse, hopefully)—four days at the grocery store and three days at the movie theater, because let's be honest, she is probably going to want to kill herself if she worked more days at the movie theater than the grocery store. Her relationship with her mom was kind of strained, considering the woman was pissed that she didn't want to spend her summer vacation at the beach with her new boyfriend, Ivan, at his vacation home in Virginia. Um, no thank you, because Ivan was Nordic, and he enjoyed his banana-hammocks, rather than proper bathing suit bottoms.

Beca was beyond pissed (and hurt, but she wouldn't say that to him; she preferred to display her anger over sadness, especially when it came to this boy) when Jesse bailed on her every Saturday for the entire months of May, June, and the first two weeks of July. She called him every name and curse word under the sun, including a few that she made up that he thoroughly enjoyed, and she even tried to breakup with him a few times, but he didn't allow that to happen. He kept telling her to be patient—he had family events and work and blah blah blah, which is why he couldn't come see her those Saturdays, but it would be worth it when they finally did see each other again.

About halfway through July, though, Beca got a cryptic text from Jesse telling her to take the first two weeks off in August from both of her jobs. She was a little pissed, because she figured he would want to do like three movies a day to make up for all of the movie tickets she had accrued. She almost told him no, but she _missed _him, which was something totally unexpected for her. Only Jesse could make Beca, the self-described Ice Queen, feel like a total _girl_ who missed her boyfriend. So, she begrudgingly took those two weeks off. She hated how he made her feel, because she wasn't that type of girl. Before she met him, she was fine with being the Ice Queen with few friends and no boyfriends. Hell, she was a virgin (don't tell Amy, or Stacie, or Chloe!), and she had never even really had the desire to ever have sex with a guy, because it meant getting close to them and being vulnerable—besides, she had two hands; she didn't exactly _need_ someone else.

Beca had serious trust issues ever since her parents' divorce. Both of her parents had been cheating on other for years, and there was constant arguing and yelling, throughout her childhood, until they finally decided to break things off when her dad got a job at Barden when she was eleven. By the time she was twelve, her parents were divorced and she was being shuttled between houses every two weeks. Thankfully, both of her parents lived in the same city (albeit on other sides of it), so with some begging and possibly a small financial bribe, they were able to convince the school to let her attend even when she was living with her dad and had to leave a good half hour earlier than usual to get to school on time. The summer after her freshman year, her mom got a job in Virginia, though. That was a tough time for her, because she had to choose which parent she was going to stay with. Her dad had started dating Sheila, who was an adjunct professor at Barden, and she honestly hated the woman, so she chose her mom. Her dad was crushed, but they were the ones who put the choice up to her. They should have figured their shit out and just told her what she was doing, because she knew that the decision would only hurt her relationship with one of her parents, but she hated Sheila, so she had to choose her mom. So, she spent most of her high school experience in Virginia with people she hated and barely made any friends for those three years. She became her surly, semi-goth self, and her relationship with her dad only grew more sour, because she refused to wear anything but black to his and Sheila's wedding (and adamantly told both of them _NO_ when they asked her to be _in_ the wedding party as a junior bridesmaid).

All of this had screwed Beca up completely, so she kind of felt dead inside. That is until she met, Jesse, who had had gradually broke down her walls. He just _got_ her. He knew that she had this steely exterior, but inside she was a heartbroken mess. Jesse just calmly sat with her when she was pissed at the world (read: hurt), and he held her hand, being a friend when she needed him to be. So, when they finally got together (after she finally realized that she wanted more from him than just a friend), it nearly killed her to actually have to say goodbye to him. She hated being that kind of girl, but he seemed to bring her to life again.

Beca borrowed her dad's car and went to pick up Jesse from the train station at about seven on July thirty-first, holding up sign that read 'Weirdo Movie Nerd,' her nickname (and term of endearment) for him. Her stomach was swirling with nerves and butterflies, because she was afraid that seeing him for the first time she was going to see him (in person) since the second Friday in May when she watched him drive away with his parents in their tiny little car (seriously, he had to have only brought five outfits with him to school in order to fit the ridiculous amount of DVDs the boy owned). She was afraid that it would be different between them. She was afraid she was going to realize that he (or she) wanted them to only be friends.

For days, Beca couldn't sleep before his arrival, because she was so nervous about his arrival. She was jumpy, and her dad, step-mother (it turns out that Sheila isn't all that bad after all), and her coworkers could totally tell. She was a nervous mess, and she hated it. When she saw Jesse get off the train, with a two big duffel bags in his hands (she figured that the one that was kind of square was full of DVDs and the lumpy one was his clothes and deodorant and possibly a toothbrush), as well as his laptop bag hooked over his body. He looked like a pack mule, but he was grinning when he finally squeezed out the doorway of the train (he caused a little bit of a bottleneck, angering the people behind him). Jesse grinned when he saw Beca, making it to her rather quickly considering his heavy load. It felt like the one look from him made heart stop; he was so beautiful, and she finally felt whole for the first time in two and half months. When he was within a foot of her, he dropped his duffle bags and pulled her into his arms, planting a huge kiss on her. The second his arms slid around her waist and his lips touched hers, she knew that she was freaking out over nothing. This was real. They were real. Even if they had been apart for so long, it felt like home—she felt safe and whole—in his arms. While it would suck when he had to leave again in two weeks for the last few weeks of the summer, she knew that they would be okay. After this moment, she knew that they weren't going to go back to being friends due to a little time apart (because, really, two and a half months isn't really that long after all). There was no looking back, no going back. They were together, and it was right.

After they broke the kiss, Jesse leaned his forehead against Beca's. "Hi," he whispered, and she smiled, hugging him tighter. "I missed you."

"It is your fault! You could have come to see me…" He just stared at her, and she pouted. "I could have come to see you, too, I guess, but it is easier for you to visit me, because you were supposed to have your weekends off, so you could have left Sunday mornings, whereas I would have to leave at Saturday nights in order to be back in time for work the next day." Jesse just pressed a light kiss to her lips.

"I worked nonstop so that I could take these two weeks off to spend them with you. Most of the time, my bosses don't let the summer people take off two weeks, so I figured that I would work weekends for the last few weeks so that I could prove to them that I am awesome enough to let me take off this long to hang out with you." Beca sighed, burying her face into his neck.

"I'm glad you are here." She said, breathing in the smell of his cologne and the underlying scent of _him_. It was seriously her favorite smell in the world. "I missed you, too."

"Wow! Beca Mitchell actually _missed _her boyfriend? That is so—" She cut him off by biting his neck lightly, which made him groan. "Not fair…we are in public, Beca." He muttered, squeezing her hips with his hands. She chuckled, pulling away from him.

"Then, we better get out of here. I am thinking a hot make out session in the backseat of my dad's car is in order." Jesse let go of her and grabbed his bags, rushing past her.

"Let's go! Which one is your dad's car again?" He called over his shoulder, which made Beca laugh.

They made it to her dad's SUV, putting his crap in the trunk before climbing into the backseat. She pulled him against her, thanking God for tinted windows. After about a half hour, she found herself stretched out across the backseat, with her shirt off (his was, too, and he had the most spectacular chest and arms and stomach, in her opinion), and his hands running all over her body. She moaned into the kisses, and her body felt like it was on fire. She had never been so turned on in her life, but at the same time, she didn't exactly want to lose her virginity in the backseat of her dad's car. She would never be able to sit in this car again without turning bright red, so she knew that she had to stop this soon. It just felt _so good_ to be in this position with him, and she knew that he was feeling it too, considering she felt his erection pressed against her stomach. She pulled out of the kiss, smiling up at him. "As much fun as this is, I really would prefer not to have sex in my dad's car…" She told him, which made him grimace.

"I would never be able to look at your dad again…" Jesse muttered, making Beca laugh. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. The two of them pulled their shirts back on, and she began running her fingers through her hair, trying to make it look like it did normally; it was definitely way messier than usual. He laughed, reaching over to help her. "You look sexy like this," he said seriously, pressing a kiss to her lips. She broke it before it got too heated again.

"As do you," Beca grinned. She stroked her finger over the red mark that was peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt, where his neck met his shoulder. "I think I marked you…" He grinned, shrugging. "You should get a tattoo there, saying, 'Property of Beca Mitchell,'" she said, biting her lip.

"Only if you get one saying, 'Property of Jesse Swanson,'" he responded. She pretended to ponder this.

"Nah, then all of the boys would be afraid to come near me. That is until they take one look at you and realize that you wouldn't be able to hurt a fly." He laughed sarcastically, pulling her flush against his body.

"Ha ha ha, so funny," he said, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot along her jaw that made her squirm. "Just because you punched a forty-year old man who was a total freak doesn't mean I can't fight."

"Rea..rea…really?" Beca stuttered; her eyelids shut, and she whimpered when he gently kissed his way down her jaw to her ear.

"Totally," Jesse whispered into her ear. She couldn't even think straight with his hands all over her.

"Shit, stop…" She muttered. "I can't think straight when you do that." He chuckled, pulling away from her, winking at her. She groaned, punching him in the shoulder. "I hate you," she said, half-heartedly. "Uggh," she dropped her head back onto the seat, pouting. "I don't want to go back to my dad's place. I am not in the mood to have him interrogate you, considering the last time you and him talked was when I was getting arrested for destruction of public property. Can we just runaway?"

Jesse settled back in the seat beside her, grabbing her hand. "Let's go on a road trip." Beca glanced at him in surprise.

"Wait, what?"

"Seriously, we have two weeks together, so why not take a road trip to LA? If we cut out most of the stupid stops and take the most direct route, we could probably make it there in a few days. Then, spend about a week there, and then drive back. What do you think?" Her face lit up, and she dove on him, pressing a bunch of kisses all over his face. He laughed at her response. "I take that as a yes, then?"

"When should we leave? I don't think I can steal my dad's car. And, I can't exactly where the same outfit over and over, so I need to go pack…" She started ranting, listing off all the things that they needed to do before they could just ride across the country.

"Becs, chill. We will go to your place tonight, pack up your stuff, and start planning. Maybe we should stop at a rental car place, though, on the way to your place." She waved him off, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She dialed her dad's house number, waiting while the phone rang.

"Dad, hey," she said when he picked up.

"Beca, what's wrong? Did the car break down or something? Do you need me to pick you two up from the station?" Her dad asked, and she could hear him jumping up from the couch or the computer or something, muttering something about needing to find Sheila's keys.

"No, I just wanted to ask you a question…"

"Okay?"

"So, Jesse and I were talking, and we were thinking that maybe we could take a road trip to LA."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Not really."

"Do you know how crazy that is? LA is across the country. That is a lot of gas money and motel costs, and I don't know how I feel about you and Jesse being alone in a hotel room together…"

"Dad! Seriously? I'm nineteen." She rolled her eyes; he was acting like she was twelve.

"I don't care how old you are; you are still my kid. I don't like the idea of you being alone with a boy overnight."

"Dad, Jesse is a complete gentleman! You really think that he would take advantage of me?" She saw the boy in question smirk beside her. He grinned, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. He nodded his head, like he definitely planned on doing just that. "I could kick his ass," she told her dad, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, who scoffed and feigned hurt. "Seriously, remember, I beat up an adult man for him?"

"Well, now I am scared for Jesse's well-being." Her dad said, sighing, making Beca laugh.

"You should! His body will probably be found in a ditch on the side of the road somewhere in Texas, because he annoyed the shit out of me." Jesse rolled his eyes at her. "Please? Money isn't a problem. I have a ton saved up from this summer and in savings from Christmas and my birthday. If it makes you feel better, I could get a separate motel room from Jesse every night." Her boyfriend's eyes got huge when she said that, and she fought the desire to laugh aloud.

"Like I believe that…"

"I could just tell you that…" She said, and her dad sighed loudly into the phone.

"I guess…But, what car are you guys going to use?"

"Well, we were going to go rent one…"

"No, no. I only teach one day a week this summer, and my office hours are scheduled on the same days as Sheila, so I guess we could carpool. You can take my car. I would feel more comfortable, because I know my car was just inspected and is in great condition. And, you will take my credit card, but you will only use it for emergencies, like if the car gets a flat or something."

"Okay! Totally! Thank you!" Beca said, grinning and bouncing up and down in the seat like a small child. "You are so awesome!"

"And, you need to call me every day, at least twice a day, and periodically text me, so I know that you are alive."

"Okay! Seriously, I promise!"

"Fine, then come home. I need to put the fear of God and myself in Jesse." She laughed, looking sympathetically at her boyfriend.

"As long as he is alive tomorrow when we leave…" She told her dad. Jesse's face turned concerned, making her laugh harder. "He's scared…"

"Good; he should be." She hung up the phone and climbed into the front seat from the backseat.

"Let's go, Jess. You have an interrogation to get to." He whined, following her into the passenger seat.

They drove home, and while Jesse was scared within an inch of his life by her father, Beca went about packing stuff for the two week trip. She was going to bring her laptop, obviously, but not all of her mixing equipment. She didn't plan on making any mixes, because Jesse was insisting on making her watch movies with him at night when they got a motel room. She packed about fifteen t-shirts (in case she spilled something or they got dirty somehow), fifteen tank tops, all of her bras (she only owned like five of them, anyways), about twenty pairs of underwear (you can never have too much underwear), ten pairs of socks (she didn't plan on wearing her sneakers that much, but just in case, she needed socks), and about five pairs of jean shorts. She then packed three pairs of yoga pants (she was only going to be sleeping in them, so they wouldn't get that dirty), the same number of over-sized t-shirts to sleep in. Then, her toiletries, such as a toothbrush, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, toothpaste, mouthwash, face wash, deodorant, her razor, laundry detergent (for if they need to wash clothes in the bathtub or something), and her makeup. She figured that was all that she really needed, and if they were missing anything, they could just buy it along the way. It took her about two bags with all of her crap, and she was thankful that her dad was letting them borrow his SUV, so there was still plenty of room for both of their ridiculous amounts of stuff and them. She grabbed her GPS, too, and a map, so that they were prepared for the trip.

After packing up the car with their bags (minus some clothing and necessary toiletries for the morning) and stealing snack foods from the kitchen, they went to sleep early so that they could leave early in the morning (Beca normally wouldn't be functioning at seven in the morning, but she was eager to start their adventure, so she agreed to the early departure time). They gassed up the car on their way out of town. They spent about eight or so hours on the road, each of them taking a four-hour leg, stopping only for gas, to go to the bathroom, or for breakfast and lunch. They stopped each night and got a motel room, stopping for to-go food at a pizza shop or a Chinese restaurant to bring to their room. Jesse could tell that Beca was still a little hesitant about having sex, so he always stopped them before their make out sessions made it too far; they didn't get beyond shirt removal and light over-the-clothes touching below the belt. They didn't do too many touristy-things on their way, because getting to LA and spending as much time there as possible was their goal, so it only took them about three days to get there. (They decided not to get a hotel room the third night, and just drove until they got there, taking turns while the other person took a quick nap until they got there). It was nearly one in the morning when they finally arrived in LA, and they drove straight to the beach. Using Beca's fake id, they bought a bottle of Jack and sat on the beach, drinking for the rest of the night, staying up to see the sunrise.

Beca could hold her liquor better than Jesse, so she got them a motel room. They carried all of their crap into the room, passing out in the bed by nine in the morning. They slept off the alcohol until about two in the afternoon, deciding they were famished. They went to get something to eat nearby their motel and then wandered the city on foot, getting dinner at about eight, before deciding to head back to their motel room for the night. Jesse insisted that on acting like a kid, so he forced her to build a fort out of the sheets, chairs, TV, and table in their motel room. Then, they sat in the center of their little fort, snuggled up with each other, watching their movie. They fell asleep in each other's arms. She couldn't help but feel like he was the missing part of her—that he completed her. He was so goofy and charming and funny and sweet and optimistic, whereas she was much surlier, jaded, and realistic. He helped her see the goodness of life, and she felt so happy with him. Beca woke up about at about two in the morning and laid on her side, just watching Jesse sleep. She couldn't sleep, because she knew she was falling in love with him. After a few hours of just staring at him, she decided to climb out of their fort to shower and go get breakfast for them. It was nearly seven in the morning, and she really didn't feel like putting any makeup on, so she just dressed in a pair of her jean shorts that were a little snugger than the rest of them, so they fell high on her thighs and made her butt look great (in her opinion, and Jesse told her as much when he first saw them on her). She snuck out of the hotel room and drove to the local Dunkin Donuts to get them coffees and donuts.

When Beca got back to the hotel room, she saw that Jesse was packing up their fort. He turned and smiled at her, and she felt herself melt at the sight of him. Yeah, she totally loved this kid. She set the food down on the table and pulled him into a big kiss. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered when they broke the kiss. Beca wrinkled her nose, because she didn't think she looked that great without makeup on. "Hey, don't do that. You're gorgeous. I like you without makeup." He whispered, pressing a light kiss to her nose. "You look pretty all the time, but this is a nice change." She rolled her eyes, burying her face into his neck.

They spent the day in bed, watching movies, not really feeling like going anywhere, even though they only had a few more days in the city. Beca groaned when he made her watch _Grease_, because Jesse proceeded to sing all of the songs and then jumped up and started doing the dance moves. He even pulled her up and made her dance with him. They ordered pizza to be delivered, and she knew that she had to tell him how she felt. Sure, they had only been together for about four months, but they had known each other for a year, so she figured it was safe to say that she loved him. She put her pizza down in the box, chewing on her bottom lip, unsure how to start this conversation. "What's wrong?" He asked her, concerned. She smiled at him to show him that she wasn't upset. She leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his lips. When Beca pulled back, Jesse grinned at her. She carefully grabbed the pizza from his hands, dropping it into the box. She closed the box and tossed it onto the floor on her side of the bed. She kissed him more firmly, laying back into the pillows and pulling his body down on hers.

They kissed for a while, but Jesse broke the kiss. "Not that I don't love this, what's going through that head of yours?" He asked as he laid on his side, supporting himself on his one arm, while his other hand tangled itself into her hair. Beca took a deep breath, studying his face.

"I love you," she whispered, and he grinned. He kissed her, pulling away after a moment.

"I love you, too, Becs," he said. She sat up and pulled her shirt off.

"I want to be with you…" She said as calmly as she could, but she was a shaking mess of nerves on the inside. He studied her for a moment, sensing her nerves. He sat up, kissing her firmly. He took her hand, pressing it against his chest.

"My heart's pounding. Do you feel that? You make me crazy," Jesse told her, burying his face into her neck and pressing kisses to the skin there. "We don't have to do this now…we can wait." Beca shook her head, burying her hands into his hair.

"I'm ready now. I want to be with you." She pressed a kiss against the top of his head. "I love you, and I want you." She pulled at his shirt, helping him to take it off. "Make love to me?" She whispered, reaching behind her to undo her bra. This was the first time she had let him see her chest completely bare, and he sucked in a deep breath. He closed the distance between them, kissing her with so much love that she thought she might die from happiness. This was right, because she felt so safe and happy with him.

Later, when they were lying in each other's arms, Beca knew that she wanted to spend her life with Jesse. In the back of her mind, she knew that it was possible that they wouldn't last forever, but she vowed to herself that she was going to do everything in her power to never shut him out again. She loved him, and she didn't think she could handle it if he wasn't there for the rest of her life. He was her soul mate, her dream guy. He was perfect (and he loved her even though she _wasn't_). For the first time in her life, Beca actually felt the future was worth looking forward to, because she had Jesse. She smiled, turning her head to press a kiss against his chest, right over his heart. Jesse ran his hand through her hair, pulling her tighter to his body. "Love you, Beca," he whispered sleepily, and she responded in kind. She fell asleep there, using his chest as her pillow, their limbs entwined. He was her home.


	14. Enchanted (Part A)

**Enchanted**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Enchanted**_** by Taylor Swift**

**Author's Note: This one is AU, too, and it takes place when they are in their mid-twenties like most of my AU stories for this series. Beca and Chloe know each other from college, but they attended USC, and Chloe is the same age as Beca. Enjoy!**

* * *

"I seriously hate you right now." Beca Mitchell muttered as she stepped out of the dressing room, wearing some frilly pink dress. She saw herself in the mirrors along the wall near the benches that were lined up for friends and family members waiting for the customers to show them the clothing that they were trying on. "Dude, no!" She grimaced, turning around immediately and headed back into the dressing room.

"Beca, wait! You looked pretty!" She heard Chloe call out to her, but she ignored her redheaded friend and continued to shut the door to the dressing room in the girl's face. She stripped the dress off as quickly as possible. She threw it back over the door, and, seeing that it didn't fall to the ground, it either landed on Chloe's head or her friend had caught it.

"I don't do pink." Beca muttered, grimacing as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror inside the dressing room. Aside from the colorful ink that was permanently etched into her skin, she was pale as a ghost, and she looked a little sallow. Okay, so maybe Chloe was right when she suggested that they get spray tans—not too dark, but enough that she didn't look like she was punched in both of her eyes and to lose the lightly yellow-beige shade on her skin. She reached behind her back to remove her bra, because the next dress, a little more her style than the other dress, was strapless. It was a mini tube dress that was a nude-gold shade with a ruffled black mesh over top of it. It was tight, molding to the curves of her body. The neckline accentuated her smaller breasts, whereas Chloe was probably going to wear something that highlighted that she had a big butt and much bigger boobs than Beca. This dress definitely helped show off Beca's best feature: her curves. She zipped the dress up and walked out of the dressing room once again.

"Holy shit! That is it! I insist!" Chloe said, squealing. She jumped up and down excitedly, making Beca roll her eyes.

"You're being an idiot right now." Beca paused, looking at herself in the three-way mirror, checking out the dress on her body from different angles. She supposed that it looked good on her. It was a little short though, and it showed off most of her tattoos, which she loved doing. It made her different, unique, eye-catching, but at the same time unapproachable (especially when she wore her spiky earring and her dark eye makeup). "Have I told you how proud of you I am right now?" Chloe looked at her in confusion. "You didn't attempt to crawl under the door of the dressing room. I wouldn't have been surprised if you did, considering you love catching me when I am naked—in the shower, in my room, in the bathroom, wherever." The redhead rolled her eyes, waving her hand like what Beca was saying wasn't true or not a big deal. Um, actually it was a pretty big deal, because Beca had known Chloe for like five minutes before the redhead was climbing into the shower with her when they were in college together.

"Whatever. Anyways, we should get you nude heels. I would do black strappy stilettos, but I think plain nude pumps would look good. Maybe peep toe? Or something. Get changed so we can go shoe shopping." Beca groaned as she made her way into the dressing room again.

"Why do I have to go to this thing again? Don't you have a boyfriend who you can go to it with?" She asked as she unzipped the dress and began redressing in her normal clothes—jeans, a tank top, and an open flannel button up shirt. She pulled her sneakers onto her feet, sitting on the little shelf for storing shoes, bags, and possibly small children while the customer changed.

"Beca! You know how important this new job is for me!" Chloe whined. "I can't get drunk and make out with Chris in front of all of my new coworkers and employers!" The redhead had just gotten hired in the publishing department for some production company. The company was hosting its annual New Year's Eve party, and Chloe had insisted that Beca join her at the party. She hoped that Beca would keep her sober enough that she wouldn't cheat on her boyfriend, since she couldn't bring him along without risking indecent exposure on the dance floor. Beca sighed, knowing that she would do anything for Chloe; she was her best friend in the whole world—people get close rather quickly when they get up close and personal with each other's junk in the shower.

"I know. Chill, Chlo." She said, exiting the dressing room with the dress over her arm. They made their way to the counter, bought the dress (on Chloe's charge—the redhead had insisted to buy Beca's outfit as thanks for attending the party with her). The two women then went to the shoe department to find a matching pair of nude pumps.

Their last stop in the department store was the accessories section, where Chloe had picked out a black clutch for Beca to carry around (it would barely fit anything besides her cell phone, keys to her house, her driver's license, a tube of lip balm, and possibly two twenties. Beca would have to do some finagling, but maybe she could fit a couple of cigarettes and a lighter in there, too. Chloe hated that Beca smoked, but the brunette figured that she was allowed a vice, considering her sex life was kind of nonexistent at the moment since her usual fuck-buddy had went back to his girlfriend again, and she had been super busy with work, producing two albums for two different boy bands (damn the stupid British guys brought goddamn boy bands back, so now Beca was dealing with two Backstreet Boys wannabe bands in her sound booth every day, wailing about a girl who broke their hearts).

"So, jewelry," Chloe was saying, but Beca shook her head.

"No way!" She grabbed her simple necklace. It was a silver chain with the only charm on it a white guitar pick with a silver eighth note glued on top of it. She had gotten it as a gift for her fifteenth birthday, and she hadn't taken it off except when she was going to get wet or go to sleep. It was the only jewelry (aside from her earrings) that she ever wore.

"Beca, you're necklace is pretty, but…well, maybe without the…" Chloe trailed off when she saw the look on the brunette's face. "Okay," she said quietly, wrapping an arm around the girl and leading her out of the department store. Beca hated the mall, but she muttered about needing a new thong and a strapless bra to go with the dress and wanting an Auntie Ann's pretzel.

* * *

Two days later, Beca found herself standing in the middle of a small group of people she had never met before, in a building she had only gone to for album release parties and the occasional wedding that Chloe would drag her to when the redhead was an event planner just after they had graduated from the University of Southern California. Beca had majored in music industry, and Chloe had majored in public relations. There were a number of these small groups spread throughout the ballroom. She smiled politely at the two rotund men with glasses and balding heads, holding their whiskey sours and gin and tonics, droning on and on about financial budgets for this movie and this television show. She was bored out of her mind, wishing that Chloe would hurry back from where she was chatting with the vice president of the production company. She stifled a yawn, playing it off like it was a cough, sipping her brandy old fashioned.

Beca chuckled along with whatever joke the men were making about some actor or producer or something, but she wasn't really paying attention. Her gaze drifted over the shoulders of the shorter of the two men, searching the room for Chloe's red curls. She could tell the men were trying to be polite when they switched the conversation, but it was very clear that their interest was insincere, asking her what department she worked for. When she told him that she didn't, that she was actually here with a friend, and that she worked for an independent record label, their expressions shifted to ones of vacancy and their eyes shifted around, just as hers had, looking for an excuse to walk away from her. She, too, searched the crowd again, hoping that she could find someone to rescue her, particularly the redheaded ball of energy that she shared a condo with.

Instead of finding Chloe, Beca found herself locking eyes with a handsome dark-haired man from across the room. He smiled at her, his head cocking to the right. A single eyebrow rose slightly, and his eyes seemed to whisper, "have we met?" She looked away after a moment, taking a sip of her drink and nodding her head when one of them said something else, hoping to awkwardly fill the conversation for a few more moments before they excused themselves. Beca glanced over the man's shoulder again, seeing that the dark-haired man was carefully making his way across the room towards her, moving slowly, smiling, and shaking hands as he went. About five minutes after they had first locked eyes, the man arrived at her side.

"There you are! I have been looking all over for you," he smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Beca froze, confused why this stranger was not only talking to her like he knew her, but was _touching_ her (_KISSING_ her). "Tom, George, I should have known that you were the one stealing my date from me," the dark-haired stranger chided the older men, shaking their hands.

"Jesse, hello! We didn't know that she came with you." One of the men (Tom?) said, his eyes widening in relief to finally be rid of her. "We should have known, considering her choice of occupation." He added, smiling at her in a way that said he in no way enjoyed spending time with her that evening, considering he was an accountant and she was a lowly music producer.

"Of course!" Jesse, her mysterious stranger, said, his face not showing a hint of his ignorance of what she did for a living. "Would you gentlemen mind if I stole her away from you?" They shook their heads, shooing them away, and Jesse pulled Beca away with him by the arm that was wrapped around her waist. She wondered if she should be concerned with her safety, but when they got about twenty feet from the two men she had been talking to, he dropped his arm and grinned at her. "You looked a little bored, so I thought I would rescue you from George and Tom. They're probably the most boring fucking accountants I have ever had the displeasure of knowing." He told her, miming slitting his throat. "Kill me now, seriously. M'name's Jesse." He said, extending his hand. "Jesse Swanson." Beca stared at the man for a moment. "Don't worry! I don't bite…hard." He joked, winking at her. She rolled her eyes and reached out to lay her hand in his.

"Beca Mitchell," she said, and he turned the hand that was clasped in his and brought the back of it up to his lips, pressing a light kiss onto her skin.

"I am enchanted to meet you, Miss Mitchell." Jesse smiled, lowering her hand and giving it a light squeeze before letting it drop. Beca rolled her eyes at him again. They stood their quietly for a few moments; she was playing with her necklace and swirling her drink around in her glass. He was watching her, studying her in a way that she couldn't decide was harmless or kind of creepy. "I don't know why the big guy decided to host stupid parties like this one." He said after a moment, taking a sip of his drink and looking around the room. It smelled like bourbon to Beca. "The old farts probably don't have plans on nights like this, but the young ones certainly do. I could be out with my friends right now, but instead I am stuck at a stupid work function."

"You have friends?" Beca said casually as she sipped her brandy. Jesse looked down at her, a smirk slipping onto his cheeks. "That's surprising."

"Says the girl with the scary ear spike and tattoos. I doubt that you have many friends either." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm a loner, and I like it that way." She looked around the room, hoping to find Chloe. Her current company was a lot better than the previous company she had had to endure, but she wanted to know when the hell she could get the hell out of this stupid snooze-fest.

"Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night," he said casually. She narrowed her eyes at her stranger.

"Don't you have someone else to go annoy? I'm sure that nobody would care if you ducked out early to go hangout with those so-called friends you told me about, although they probably consist of your blowup dolls and your mom. Or, you could have not come at all." He laughed, studying her.

"That hurts," Jesse said pressing a hand to his chest. "But, I can't duck out early or not show up. The big guy takes roll, like we are in school." He joked, rolling his eyes. "I take it that you didn't check in with him when you arrived? What department are you from? I don't think I have seen you around before. You are the size of a chipmunk, so it is possible that I wouldn't see you standing in a crowd of people twice your size."

Beca shook her head, trying to hold back the grin. He was fun; no matter what insulting thing she said, he seemed to give it back just as good. She took a sip of her brandy, cocking an eyebrow at him. There was something about this guy that she found intriguing. "I'm not that small." She said after a moment, glancing around the room again, searching out Chloe. "I'm always was a rebel, though. I never said present when the teacher checked to see if kids were in school." She added, making him chuckle.

"Seriously though, I haven't seen you around. Are you new to the company? I feel like I know almost everyone. I'm a bit of a social butterfly, if you didn't notice."

"Oh, I did, and a real gentleman, too, with all that saving the damsel in distress from boring cocktail party banter." She rolled her eyes at him. "I work in no department. I am actually a music producer for an independent label. My best friend just got a job you all a couple weeks back in public relations. Her name is Chloe Beale."

"Chloe! Right, the cute, little redhead? She is really bubbly and gets way too personal with you rather quickly. She isn't a fan of boundaries…" Jesse shook his head, making Beca groan.

"What did she do? Did she try to undress you or follow you into the bathroom? I think I need to take her therapy, because she loves harassing people in the buff. She climbed into the shower with me about two weeks into the semester our freshman year at college to tell me she thought I had a nice singing voice. It was the first time I had ever talked to the girl, and she had no problems with having her junk all on display." This time, he laughed so hard that his head fell back.

"No, she didn't try to undress me or follow me into the bathroom, but now I wish that I had been around for your bathroom meeting." She smacked his upper arm, knowing where his mind was going.

"You're a pervert." She told him.

"But, seriously, though, she hugged me the first time I met her and said that she thought I had a cute butt. Oh, and she talks to you with barely any space between you and her. And, when I was walking away from her, she pinched my ass." She laughed, nodding her head.

"That sounds like Chloe," she told him. "So, what department are you in?"

"I'm actually one of the labels composers. I score movies." She totally wasn't expecting him to say that. Her jaw dropped open, which made him blush. "You don't believe me?"

"Shit, seriously?" She nodded her head.

"Yeah, you might have heard my stuff in…" She covered his mouth with her the hand that wasn't holding her nearly empty glass.

"I probably haven't. Actually, I can guarantee that I haven't heard your stuff." Beca said, removing her hand from his face. Jesse frowned, scratching the back of his head.

"What? Do you not like movies or something?" She didn't say anything, and his eyes widened when he realized that she didn't. "You're kidding me, right? This has to be a joke. What the hell is wrong with you?! How can you not like movies?"

She rolled her eyes, shrugging. "I dunno. They're okay, I guess. It's just that I get bored, and I never make it to the end." He just stared at her, dumfounded.

"I am just…I can't…what?" He seemed in capable of forming a full sentence, let alone thought, which made her smile. She shrugged again, sipping the last of her drink. She handed him her empty glass for a moment and opened her clutch to check the time on her cell phone. It was quarter to eleven, and she was dying for a smoke. She figured that now was as good a time as any to sneak out.

"Listen, I am gonna head outside for some fresh air. Thanks again for rescuing me from Tweedle Boring and Tweedle Boringer earlier. Bye, Jesse." She nodded her head at him, and then she turned on her heel and made her way through the crowd toward the exit. It was starting to get cooler as the night progressed, and she suddenly wished that she had thought to grab her wrap from where she had checked it earlier.

Beca walked some distance from the party and sat down on a bench, digging through her clutch for her cigarettes that she had thrown loosely into the bottom of her clutch. She found one and pulled it out, groaning when she saw that it had broken in half and was, therefore, useless. She set the broken cigarette down beside her on the bench and pulled out the other one. Unless she was able to bum one off of someone later, it looked like she was going to only be smoking one cigarette tonight. She pulled out her lighter and quickly lit the end, breathing in the delicious taste of nicotine. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself, occasionally lifting the hand with her cigarette in it to her mouth.

"Don't you know that smoking can kill you?" Beca jumped when she heard the familiar voice behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jesse walking towards her, holding glasses. He held one out to her, and she saw that he had ordered her another brandy old fashioned and then snuck it out of the party to give to her. She took the glass from his hand and took a sip.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm allowed to have a vice. Smoking is that vice." Beca carefully flicked some of the ash from the tip of her cigarette. Jesse sat down beside her, and he took the cigarette from her fingers. She whimpered, thinking that he was going to put it out, but her eyebrows rose when she saw him take a drag. He crinkled his nose as he blew out the smoke.

"God, I hate cigarettes." He muttered, taking a sip of his drink. She reached for the cigarette, which he returned to her.

"Then, why did you take it from me?" She asked him, rubbing her arm to try and warm it up. Jesse set his drink down and removed his suit jacket. He laid it across her lap and then took both the cigarette and the drink from her hands. He took another drag from the cigarette, watching her as she slipped his suit jacket on gratefully. Once again, he made a face as he blew the smoke out. "If you don't like smoking then why are you smoking my cigarette?" She complained once she found herself wrapped up in his jacket, surrounding his smell—which, smelled pretty awesome, if she were going to be honest.

"It less pollution going into your lungs," Jesse shrugged, and Beca just stared at him. He took one final drag from her cigarette and handed it to her. "You really shouldn't smoke." He turned away from her and spit on the ground. "Sorry," he apologized, taking another sip of his drink to rinse out his mouth to rid it of the flavor of the cigarette. She didn't know how to respond to that. She looked at the cigarette in her hand. It was nearly gone, she saw. He smoked most of her cigarette. She flicked some of the ash off, not saying anything.

"My dad smokes. My step-mom smokes. Most of the guys I have 'dated' in the past have smoked." She made air quotes when she said the word 'dated' with the hand that had the cigarette in it.

"It's a nasty habit." She nodded her head, taking one last drag before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it with her shoe. She held the smoke in for as long as possible before she blew it out. "It is really bad for your health."

"Yeah, but we all die eventually."

"Doesn't mean that you should speed up the process and make it twice as worse." She furrowed her brow at him.

"Why are you so against smoking?"

"My grandfather died of lung cancer." Beca stared at him in shock.

"Are you an idiot? Cancer is hereditary! Dude, you can't just start puffing on some person's cigarette, thinking you are being all noble when cancer runs in your goddamn family." Jesse shrugged, taking a sip of his bourbon.

"Better me than you," he whispered. She rolled her eyes.

"You're such a weirdo."

"Promise you'll quit?" She sighed, because she barely knew this guy, and he was trying to change her. Sure, she understood where he was coming from. Smoking _wasn't_ exactly the _healthiest_ thing she could do to relax. She should probably join a gym or go swimming or take up cooking or baking (well, that might kill whoever ate the food she prepared, so that one might not be a good idea either)—it didn't matter what she did, because they were bound to be way better than smoking. She could go back to making mixes for herself, something she didn't have time for now that she was producing people's albums. She chewed on her bottom lip, glancing over and seeing his handsome face studying her. She rolled her eyes.

"We'll see, nerd." Beca joked. Her phone buzzed in her clutch, and she opened it to pull it out. It was reaching eleven-thirty, and Chloe was looking for her. "I gotta go. Chloe's finally done kissing ass. I was supposed to be babysitting her. Hopefully she didn't try to make out with some actor." She grimaced, standing up. She gulped down her drink, setting it down on the bench to slip his jacket off. "Thanks for the jacket and the drink…" She smiled at him as she handed it to him. She grabbed her empty glass and clutch, making her way back in side.

Once inside, Beca placed her empty glass down on a tray and grabbed a champagne flute from the waiter passing by. She made her way towards Chloe, who was standing amongst a group of younger men and women, which was kind of refreshing for this party. Beca thought that she, Chloe, and Jesse were the only younger people there. She took a sip of the champagne, joining the small group. Chloe smiled, introducing her to the group. Apparently, they were also in the public relations department. Once again, Beca found herself making polite chitchat and feeling extremely bored, aside from something inappropriate that Chloe would occasionally throw in for her benefit. The group began counting down to midnight, and Chloe pulled out her cell phone to call her boyfriend and send him kisses through the phone.

Beca felt a tap on her shoulder when the entire party reached seven. She turned to find herself standing face to face with Jesse. She furrowed her brow in confusion, giving him a small smile in greeting, but he was suddenly pressing his lips to hers just as the people around them said nine and ten. She almost dropped her champagne flute in surprise. The kiss was soft and gentle. Beca laid her hand against his chest, and one of his arms slipped around her waist. Jesse pulled away a few moments later, smiling at her. "Happy New Year, Miss Mitchell." He whispered, pressing a light kiss to her lips. "It was enchanting to meet you." He pulled away from her then, giving her a small wink before he disappeared.

Beca honestly didn't know what the hell just happened. He had sneak-attacked kissed her and then disappeared like nothing happened. What? She turned to see that Chloe was making loud kissing noises into the phone and telling her boyfriend all of the dirty things she planned on doing to him as soon as she and Beca left the party. It was obvious that the redhead didn't see Beca's New Year's kiss with Jesse. Chloe hung up the phone and grinned at Beca. "Happy New Year, love! I promised Chris that he would be my first kiss, or else I would kiss you!" She said happily as she pulled Beca into a hug. "Love you, sweets!"

"It's fine, Chloe. Do you think we could get out of here now?" She said a little breathlessly, chugging her champagne. She felt light-headed and flustered, but she didn't know if that was from her three drinks of the night (especially since she had chugged the last two) or from the kiss from a certain dark-eyed, dark-haired handsome composer. The redhead nodded. They said their goodbyes and made their way to where they had checked their wraps at the start of the evening. Beca glanced over her shoulder, her eyes immediately finding Jesse's. She nodded her head goodbye to him, and he returned the gesture, giving her a smirk that she couldn't describe as anything more than him just being _him_. She didn't know him well, but she knew that there was something about this guy that loved life and finding the best in people. He was entirely too charming for his own good.

"It's beautiful out tonight. Look at the stars!" Chloe chattered as they made their way to flag down a cab to take them home for the night. Apparently, Chris was meeting them there after his partying with his guy friends at the bar. Beca nodded her head. It really was beautiful out. She blushed as she climbed into the backseat of the cab, glancing out the window and casually raising her fingers to press against her lips. She hated feeling like this. There was a reason why she didn't do relationships and feelings. It made her feel like a total idiot and out of control. The only time she enjoyed feeling out of control was when she had drinks with friends (more than she had tonight, because she was primarily with a bunch of strangers) or having sex (because, really, the best part of sex was when you were blissed out of your mind after a killer orgasm).

When the girls got home, Beca immediately went to her room, after saying a quick hello and happy new year to Chris, and climbed into the shower. She washed away all of the perfume, makeup, and lies about how much she enjoyed talking to stranger after stranger. The only thing that she couldn't wash away was the memories of a handsome man rescuing her from boring conversations, joking with her, and smoking most of her cigarettes just so she didn't put more tar and toxins into her body—despite the worse health risks for him. She braided her hair, rubbed unscented lotion into her lightly tanned skin, and dressed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. She slipped into her cool sheets, laying on her pillow and staring at the ceiling. She couldn't help wondering whether or not he knew how much she appreciated all that, how happy she was to meet him at the party. She surely would have died of boredom without him being there, entertaining her.

For two hours, Beca tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. Her lips were still tingling from where he had pressed his to hers. She chewed on her bottom lip, unable to get it out of her mind. Did this guy have a girlfriend? Because, would he have kissed her if he did? But, then again, he didn't ask her if she had a boyfriend. Well, she did mention that she was loner. Plus, she wasn't exactly giving off the stay away vibe that she usually gave to people. Perhaps he thought she was flirting a little. Was she? Was she flirting with him? Did she give him the impression that she wouldn't be opposed to kissing him? Surely, that wasn't the case. But, he was so handsome. And, he was definitely an awesome kisser. Oh, and he wasn't that bad to talk to; he did keep up with her snarkiness. Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal to him. It shouldn't be a big deal to her! She isn't this kind of girl. She certainly wasn't the kind of girl that wondered if a guy she had just met had a girlfriend, and she didn't want to think about how her heart raced and the wave of jealousy (she wasn't the jealous type!) rolled over her at the idea that he had a girlfriend that he loved and cared for, that waited at home every night to hear about his day, like some Stepford Wife wannabe, because surely, that is the kind of woman this guy liked. Right…?

Beca groaned, and she climbed out of bed, hoping to work off her thoughts. She began pacing around the room, wondering what he was thinking. Was he as messed up by this kiss as she was? She felt stupid. She wasn't this girl. She wasn't the kind of girl who got so caught up by a guy that it kept her from sleeping. She _loved _sleep; she could always sleep. Even when she was fifteen and her mom was diagnosed with cancer only three weeks after they celebrated Beca's birthday together, and she felt like her entire world was thrown into the washer and being thrashed about. Even when she felt like crying and screaming and breaking things, she still was able to go to sleep at night. Even after her mom got worse and worse, and eventually passed away when Beca was halfway through her junior year of high school. Even after she had to move in with her dad for the rest of the school year, spending her seventeenth birthday with him and Sheila, when it should have been with her mom; even after she and Sheila would constantly fight, making Beca want to scream and get so far away that she applied over the summer, early decision, to attend college at the University of Southern California. Even after she spent every birthday, every holiday since she was sixteen and a half years old without her mom, she was still able to go to sleep at night.

But, here she was, at twenty-six years old, pacing her bedroom, wondering if some guy she had known for barely a few hours was interested in her and feeling as confused as she was. Beca groaned, deciding that she needed a glass of water. She slipped from her room, walking down the hallway quietly past Chloe's room and down the steps that led her to the first floor of their condo. Beca made her way into the small kitchen, pulling a glass from the cupboard and opening the fridge to pull out the water purifier. She poured the water into the glass and returned the water pitcher to the fridge. She sipped the water as she sat at the island in the kitchen.

Beca began to fantasize that there was a knock at the door. She would walk towards it, pulling it open, ready to bite the head off of the person on the other side of the door. Her words would get caught in her throat when she realized that it was Jesse standing in front of her. He would smile at her, saying "hey."

"Um, hi…" She would reply, running a hand through her hair. "What are you doing here?" He would look down at his feet, clearly embarrassed.

"I honestly have no idea." He would pause, looking up at her with a shy smile on his face. "All I know is I was enchanted to meet you," looking away in embarrassment for how cheesy he sounded.

Beca would chuckle and roll her eyes, stepping back and letting him into the house. "You're such a weirdo," she would mutter. Then, she would stand on her toes, wrap her arms around his neck, and pull him into a kiss. The kiss would be heated, passionate, and he would push her back against the doorway, half in the condo, half out. They would kiss like that for awhile, and then Beca would invite him inside. They would make their way into the living room, chatting for the rest of the night, falling asleep at some point in each other's arms, waking to Chloe and Chris getting up mid-morning. He would blush and say a hello to Chloe, who would be wondering how she and Jesse knew each other and probably making some inappropriate comment about finding them on the couch together. Jesse would get flustered, making an excuse to leave, and Beca would walk him to the door. She would give him a light kiss goodbye, ignoring Chloe and Chris's comments behind her. He would give her his usual smirk, asking her if she would get dinner with him. She would agree, and they would kiss one last time before he would leave.

Beca snapped out of her fantasy, smacking herself a few times. What the hell is wrong with her? She didn't do that kind of thing. If the guy showed up at her doorstep right now, she would probably take him to bed and then never talk to him again. Well, unless Jesse was good, then Beca would probably keep him around as her latest fuck-buddy, since the last one is now with his girlfriend. She blushed at the fact that she was acting like a total idiot girl over a guy that she hardly knew. She needed to get her shit together. Beca couldn't help it, though; Jesse was kind of intoxicating. For what was probably the eight-thousandth time that night, she wondered if he knew the effect that he had on her and how happy that she had spent some of the night with him. Just because she would have been bored; there totally was no other reason why she would have enjoyed hanging out with him.

* * *

For three days, Beca thought back to their night together. She tried to stamp down the part of her that was hoping that their meeting and kiss from several days before wasn't just a onetime thing. She had fun talking to him, sure, but it shouldn't have been such a huge deal, like her stupid brain seemed to making it be. She wasn't the kind of girl who hoped that a boy she had met would somehow search her out and get in contact with her, like finding her on Twitter or Facebook or something. She wasn't the type of girl who wanted something more than a hookup with a guy, not after her parents divorced when she was ten. She wasn't that girl at all. So, why was her mind constantly going back to his smile, his eyes, his laugh, his charming personality, his sense of humor—him, Jesse Swanson, a guy she didn't know. Beca groaned, dropping her head into her hand, in serious need of some best friend-ranting. Sure, she probably wouldn't use his _real name_ when she would talk to Chloe about it, or any of the real details, but she needed to get him off her chest (well, mind, more like), and perhaps she would go back to her normal self. She wondered if maybe she had told him that she was pleased to meet him, too, that he wouldn't be on her mind as much. No, that was completely stupid. What the hell is wrong with her? Did this guy have mutant lips that seemed to suck the intelligence from her during their brief kiss? Seriously, that had to be the only explanation for why she was acting like a fucking idiot.

Her phone buzzed, showing that Chloe was texting her about whether or not she wanted to get lunch. Beca smiled, because Chloe's ears were obviously ringing, since Beca had just been thinking about talking to her. She told Chloe that she would see her in an hour. She tried her best to focus on her work, but she was bored out of her mind, and the stupid boy bands that she was working with were extra terrible that day. Finally, she was free for her hour and a half lunch, so she quickly raced to her car and drove to pick up Chloe. She parked in one of the guest spots and climbed out her car.

Beca tried to ignore the desire to check her appearance in every surface that hinted at a reflection, but finally the desire won out as she was walking into the lobby of the production company. She glanced at the mirrors displayed around the room above the couches to make the room look bigger and more open. And, they were probably to make the vain actors, actresses, producers, directors, and, hell, executives feel good about themselves. She ran her hand through her rather unruly hair, trying her best to smooth it down. Figuring it was a lost cause, she quickly pulled it up into a messy bun on the back of her head with the elastic that she kept around her wrist. She wiped at the smudged eyeliner beneath her eyelids. Her gaze then drifted to her outfit. She was dressed in a pair of black Capri slacks, black flats, and a white and black striped tank top. She pulled the shirt down a little lower, tried to discreetly readjust her boobs so that it didn't look like she had a uniboob going on in her bra. Beca figured that this was as good as it was gonna get; she walked over to the woman behind the reception desk, telling her to call up to Chloe.

Beca sat down on one of the couches near the elevators, texting on her phone and checking her email. "Beca!" She looked up when she heard Chloe's voice as she stepped off the elevator. She smiled when she saw her friend, dressed in a simple pale blue dress and white booties. She stood up, but froze when she saw that Jesse was exiting the elevator after Chloe. He grinned when he saw her. "This is Jesse, from the music department," Chloe said, waving her hand at Jesse. "He got onto the elevator, about to head to lunch, as well, so I thought that he could join us."

Jesse looked like he was going to open his mouth to say something, but Beca just extended her hand to him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Jesse. I'm Beca." He cocked his head slightly before taking her hand in his.

"I'm enchanted to meet you, Beca." He said, repeating the same words from a few nights ago. She nodded her head, pulling her hand from his.

"This is going to be so fun!" Chloe said excitedly, entwining her arm with Beca's. "You look cute today, by the way. I'm sorry I missed you this morning. Chris woke me up in the best way!" She winked, and Beca slapped a hand over the redhead's mouth.

"If this is about sex, I don't want to hear it. It is bad enough sharing a wall and a condo with you, Chlo. I don't need a second blow-by-blow, literally, from you a few hours later." She dropped her hand when Chloe licked her palm. "Dude! No! What the hell is wrong with you?" She complained, wiping her hand on Chloe's bare arm and pulling away from her. "You are such a freak."

"You love it." Chloe joked, turning her focus on Jesse. "So, Jesse, Beca is a record producer at a small indie label. Beca, Jesse is one of the composers for the production company. He was in his a cappella group in high school, too!" Jesse's eyes widened as they walked out of the building toward Beca's car.

"You did a cappella?" Beca shook her head quickly.

"God, no! That was all Chloe. She tried to get me to join her all-girl a cappella group when we were freshman by climbing into the shower with me. I told her no way, but we went to get drinks that night at a frat party. It was a lot of fun, because Chloe is insane. I did cheer her on during their competitions, and I suggested songs that they could mash together for their sets."

"She has a killer voice, but she refuses to show it off." Chloe pouted.

The lunch went well, and the entire time, Jesse flirted with Beca. Chloe flirted with everyone that had a pulse, but that was just her usual self. When she excused herself to run to the ladies room, Jesse turned to Beca. "So, why did you not tell her that we had met before?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"Chloe would have turned it into something bigger than it was…" She said as casually as she could muster. "Especially if she knew that you kissed me."

"What if I want it to be a big deal?" He asked as he leaned closer to her. "I like you, Beca. You're different. Special."

Beca's stomach twisted. She hated the effect this guy seemed to have on her. She should tell him right then and there that she wasn't the relationship type. She shouldn't lead him on—she didn't want him to think that she wanted anything more than a few rolls in the hay. There was something about his eyes, his smile, which kept her from saying those words. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. "I think you're special, too, but in the 'stop eating the paste' kind of way." She said, making him laugh and roll his eyes.

"Hey, I will have you know that I never ate paste." He promised, making her chuckle. "Let me take you to dinner?" She groaned, using her fork to push her left over broccoli pieces around her plate. "Wow…I don't think I have ever gotten a groan before." He pouted.

"I'm not the right girl for you, Swanson." Beca told him honestly. Jesse furrowed his brow.

"I think I am a pretty good judge of who is good or right for me, Mitchell."

"I'm not the girlfriend-girl. I'm the fuck-buddy kind of girl. You're whole person screams boyfriend." She rolled her eyes, trying to act like the idea didn't simultaneously intrigue and frighten her.

"Who said I was asking for a girlfriend?" Jesse said, leaning back and taking a bite of his sandwich. Beca cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm asking you to one dinner. We will talk, we will laugh, you will insult me and my manliness, and I will have to respond by showing you just how manly I can be. At the end of the night, you will let me bring you back to my apartment, where I will educate you on the beauty of motion pictures." She groaned again, pretending to shoot herself. "At the end of the night, I will escort you home, kiss you goodnight, and then beg you to do it with me all over again. You will obviously be smitten with my company, and you won't be able to help yourself, agreeing so quickly that you surprise both of us. Then, we will do it over again. And over again, and then we'll probably wind up sleeping together. I will blow your mind," he winked, making her roll her eyes again. She laid a hand over his mouth.

"Stop talking." She whispered, dropping her hand. He took it in his, dropping it beneath the table as Chloe returned to the bathroom. She chattered on and on about some nice woman she met while in there. The entire time, Jesse played with Beca's hand, which he had resting on his thigh. She tried to act natural, but it was hard. As they exited the restaurant later, Jesse grabbed Beca's cell phone from her back pocket. "Did you do that to cop a feel?" She hissed quietly over her shoulder. He shook his head, quickly texting himself from her phone. She rolled her eyes. This guy wasn't going to give up, and a huge part of her was kind of relieved. The rest of her was scared shitless, because she didn't know what to expect with him. She didn't know why he had this hold on her.

As she was driving away from the production company towards her work, Beca's phone buzzed from where she left it on the seat beside her. When she stopped at a red light, she quickly opened the text, rolling her eyes when she saw that he saved himself as My Future Boyfriend. The text message read: _I was enchanted to meet you, Beca Mitchell. I'll see you at eight tonight._

* * *

**Did you guys happen to catch the _Gilmore Girls_ reference in this?  
**


	15. Near You Always (Part B)

**Near You Always**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Near You Always**_** by Jewel**

**Author's Note: Wow! Everyone was begging for another part to the last one-shot, so I decided that I would include a second part. I love this song, and I feel like it fit Beca perfectly as she begins to navigate love with someone like Jesse. This one got me emotional. I actually teared up! I hope that you enjoyed it!**

* * *

Beca hated that he seemed to have a hold over her. Somehow, their date became a second date. Then, a third date happened, then a fourth. Soon, one week together turned into a month. Then, it was two months. Then, three months. Before she knew it, she was a _girlfriend_—had been for the last year. She hated him for it, because she wasn't this kind of girl.

Beca could tell that Jesse was holding back most of the time, and she was beyond gratefully to him for doing that. He saw how jumpy she got after a look or a touch or a kiss. He would immediately distance himself from her, brush the heavy moment with a hug. They avoided romantic comedies for a very long time into their relationship, because he knew how much it would freak her out. At the same time, she knew that it was killing him not to be himself, because he was the kind of guy that loved big romantic gestures and just showing up at her home with a bouquet of flowers just because it was a Tuesday. He was that guy, and she just wasn't that _girl_. She hated hurting him more than she hated how much she loved (shut up!) being with him.

When she woke up early one morning, exactly twelve months after their first date (or twelve months and three days since their first kiss), Beca opened her eyes to find herself facing Jesse's sleeping, peaceful form. His eyes were closed, fluttering lightly as his eyes shifted back and forth between the lids. He was dreaming. His lips quivered slightly. There was barely any space between them, maybe four or five inches at the most. One of his arms was draped over her hips, pressed against the skin of her lower back. His other hand was tucked beneath his pillow and head, clutching a handful of the pillow. Jesse was so beautiful, and Beca hated him for that. He mumbled in his sleep. It was something about picking up pizza after work or something. She smiled, studying his face, the light dusting of stubble on his cheeks and jaw. The way his throat would move when he swallowed in his sleep, his Adam's apple bobbing. The way that his skin stretched over his muscular chest, with a light smattering of hair that she found oddly attractive (usually, she went for guys with no chest hair, but she liked his…). Beca shifted slightly, tucking her hands beneath her cheek to keep from touching Jesse. She enjoyed these moments, getting to look at him when he was silent, completely peaceful and at rest. It was moments like these that she allowed herself to really feel her feelings without freaking out. It amazed her how much she loved being with him, around him. She wanted to be around him all of the time, and it was _too_ _much_ sometimes. Beca didn't think that Jesse knew the effect that he had on her, or if he did, he kept it to himself. "Love you, too." He mumbled, and she froze.

Beca tried to tell herself that Jesse wasn't saying them to her in his dream, because he knows that those words were too much for her. She had never said those words to someone other than Chloe or her dad (it took them awhile to get back to that point where she could say that she loved him again—like as in two years ago). She used to use those words carelessly when she was growing up, saying she loved her friends that she had known for barely a week, or claiming to love some actor or singer, or the boy from her algebra class. Then, her mom got sick, and Beca realized what true love really was. It was holding someone's hand when they cried over the pain and nausea. It meant being strong when all you wanted to do was cry. It meant spending night after night, sleeping while sitting in a chair and bent over a bed, waking up with cricks in your neck and lower back. It meant leaving school the moment it was done, giving up every extracurricular activity you were a part of, not talking to friends anymore, and spending your afternoons eating crappy hospital food, reading books, or singing songs to your mother while she laid in bed, too tired to even hold a book herself or had trouble falling to sleep because of the noises of the hospital around them. That was love. It was love helping her write a letter to all the people she loved when she knew that she was probably going to die. It was calling her father to tell him that she was getting worse. It was writing down exactly what her mother wanted following her death. She wanted to be cremated, to have her ashes taken out on a boat and spread out amongst the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. She wanted to have everyone she ever loved and enjoyed her life with have a huge dance party in her honor, playing all of her favorite songs. She wanted everyone to go around and tell one good thing about her and one bad thing about her. She wanted people to laugh and cry as they remembered her. That was love. Beca didn't say those words easily anymore. She didn't say that she loved Chloe until they had known each other—been friends—for three years. Chloe had been saying that she loved Beca ever since they had first become friends, but it took that long for her to finally be comfortable saying that she loved Chloe. Love was a hugely powerful emotion, and it scared her; it wracked her to the core of her being, making her feel like her world was turned upside down. She was afraid of it, and she knew that Jesse knew that it was too much for her.

Beca pulled her left hand from beneath her cheek to wipe at the tear that slipped from her eye. She hated thinking about how painful it was to lose her mom. She felt her body begin to tremble. No. Stop. She kept telling herself that she couldn't cry. Not in front of Jesse. Beca couldn't stop the tears though. Her shoulders began to shake, and she pressed the fingers of both hands into her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. "Bec, hey…are you crying?" He heard him whisper, tightening his arm around her back. His other hand reached out and slid beneath her neck to tangle into her hair. "Talk to me," Jesse said, squeezing the back of her neck. The arm around her pulled away from her to pull her hands down.

Beca opened her eyes to see him staring at her with concern, fear, and, fuck, love. She knew that he loved her, and it only freaked her out more. She shook her head, and he wrapped his arm back around her, pulling her against him, both arms wrapped tightly around her body. She pressed her face into his neck, and she cried. When he looked at her like that, when he held her in his arms like this, she felt safe and at home; she wanted to be there in his arms forever. It was frightening. "Talk to me, baby." He whispered into her hair, the fingers of his one hand running up and down her back.

It was too much, so Beca pushed against his chest, needing some distance. Jesse released her immediately, and she rolled over onto her back, pressing her hands over her face. She took a couple of breaths, trying to steady her breathing. She wiped at her cheeks and blew out a breath. "Bad dream," she muttered. Beca had never talked to him about her mom, and she didn't want to talk about it yet. She felt his eyes on her, as Jesse sat up enough so that he was resting on his elbow. She closed her eyes, just laying there, taking deep breaths. She tried to ignore the fact that he _knew_ she was lying, but he didn't push her, because he knew that she would bolt.

"I'm sorry, Beca," Jesse said after a few moments, playing along with her, leaning over to press light kisses against her forehead, then her eyes, then the tip of her nose, before finally on her lips. They were all so feather light, so sweet, and Beca hated it. Those were the kind of kisses that she made her want thousands more of them. She craved those kisses, even more than she craved the ones that left her breathless and a pile of jelly before, during, or after sex. It was the sweet ones that stabbed into her heart, making her feel like he could be her whole world for the rest of her life. It was the sweet kisses that scared her and made her feel so safe at the same time.

Jesse leaned back so that there were a few inches between them. "Hi," Beca whispered, and he smiled down at her. He set his free hand on her cheek, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone. He gradually slid his hand down her neck. He then slid his hand over her shoulder, tucking his thumb into the strap of her tank top, pulling it off her shoulder as his hand slid down her arm. He leaned down again to press a firmer, but still sweet kiss against her lips.

"Hi," Jesse whispered back against her lips. His hand reached hers, and he interlaced their fingers. Fuck, she hated it when he did this. She caught him occasionally trying to make sex into something bigger, into a bigger connection or way to prove his appreciation or love for her. She hated it when he did this, because it made her feel things she wasn't ready to feel. He raised their joined hands above her head, kissing her again, this time it was a little less sweet and a lot more passionate.

Jesse shifted his body over Beca's, settling himself between her legs. He released her hand to slide it beneath her waist, pulling her body flush against his to deepen the kiss. She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, arching her back off the bed and against him. Fuck, this is what she hated, because it felt like her heart was going to explode from beating so fast, while the rest of her body was beginning to come alive. That was the part that she was used to, felt safe feeling. It was the thing that he did to her heart, her head, her emotions that killed her. They kissed for a long time, wrapped up in each other's arms, holding each other close.

Beca determined that Jesse had officially ruined hugs for her, because now every other hug she would ever receive—from Chloe, from her dad, from her other friends from school or work. All of those hugs would never be enough—they would be shallow representations of what hugs could be like. She didn't even want to think about how hugs like this in particular, ones where their entire bodies seemed to be melting into each other, would definitely be ruined should she ever be with another man. God! Why did she have to think like that? Now, she simultaneously wants to pull him closer because the idea of losing him almost took her breath away, but she wants to push him away, at the same time, because it means that he is getting _too_ _close_. He makes her want him around her for the rest of her life. Fuck!

Jesse noticed that her head was elsewhere, because he broke the kiss and shifted to balance his weight on his arms on either side of her head. Beca frowned, because she didn't want him to stop—she wanted to be with him so badly in that moment. Plus, she didn't want him to ask her what she was thinking about. "Don't stop," she whispered, running her hand down his stomach and slipping it into his boxers. He groaned, closing the distance between them. Finally, her body took over, and her thoughts disappeared as he made her feel the most amazing things. She ignored the way that his kisses and touches and the thrusts of his hips seemed to punctuate his feelings for her. She focused on how good it felt instead, because the emotions behind it were too much for her right then.

* * *

Nearly ten hours later, Beca found herself finishing up the last of her work for the day at her desk, checking her email for the final time that day, listening to the last few demos that mangers had sent her to give her an idea of their artists' sound for when they would work together. Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it, rolling her eyes when she saw that Jesse had changed his name in her phone yet again, this time to The Best Sex I Have Ever Had. She opened the text. _My darling, beautiful Beca. I am running a bit late this evening, but I am looking forward to making you dinner and forcing you to watch yet another outstanding movie before taking you to bed and rocking your world yet again today. Let yourself into my place when you get off work. I will be home as soon as I can. See you soon, gorgeous. Oh, and I have a surprise for you!_

What the hell did that mean? Beca groaned, glancing at the clock. It was about quarter to five, and she was so ready to be done for the day. She was a little nervous to find out what Jesse's surprise was for her. "Beca," she jumped when the college student that interned at the label walked up to her desk. She glanced up at him and groaned again when she saw that he was holding a bouquet of twelve yellow tulips. "These were delivered for you." He handed them over, and she wanted to refuse to take them. Jesse knew that she didn't like flowers, that she thought that they were a waste of money and the unnecessary death of a living thing (seriously, why tear a plant from the ground just to give to another person? The flowers wilt and eventually die).

Sighing, Beca took the flowers from the boy, who disappeared back toward the reception desk. She pressed her nose into the flowers, smelling them. They smelled so sweet, and they seemed to whisper the words "just thinking of you" or "I miss you while you are gone" or whatever it was that Jesse was trying to say. (Obviously, these were not I love you flowers, because those were supposed to be roses, right?) She opened the note that he had the florist attach to them. _I know that you hate getting flowers, but I went to the park today to get inspiration, and I thought of you, so I stopped by the florist on my way back to work. I don't know why I chose tulips, especially yellow tulips, because nothing about you screams sunny disposition, but here we are. There is one flower for every month that you have made me completely miserable. I think I should tell you that I hate you. Way more than you hate me. See you soon, beautiful. I missed you today._

Beca tried to keep the smile off of her face when she read his chicken scratch that she had gotten so good at deciphering. He signed it with a winking smiley face and The Guy You Have Wrapped Around Your Finger. She rolled her eyes. Jesse was ridiculous. She smelled the flowers again. He knew her too well, way more than she liked. He seemed to understand her, and she could definitely read between the lines: when he said that he made her miserable, he meant happy or cheerful; when he said that he hated her, he meant that he cared for her (maybe even loved her…fuck!). She refused to think about him saying that he loved her more than she loved him. She wasn't ready for that. No. His note meant that he cared for. It was easier that way. It was so much easier for her. Beca pressed a hand to her chest, hoping that her heart would stop pounding. After a few moments of taking deep breaths, she packed up her stuff and brought the flowers with her.

Beca drove straight to Jesse's house. It was a Friday, so she was probably going to spend most of the weekend at his place. She had a few articles of clothing at his place, but she primarily wore his clothes (if she wore any at all) until she went home midday on Sunday to get ready for the workweek. She parked in his driveway, knowing that he was going to park behind her, therefore preventing her "escape" from his home until it was time for her to leave when the weekend was over. She made her way up to the house, unlocking the door with the key she kept on her keychain. Beca had freaked out the first time he gave it to her a two months back, but Jesse had given it to her with the statement that it was for practical reasons. Her car had broken down earlier in the week, and Chloe had been dropping her off at work, and a coworker who had lived in Jesse's neighborhood would drop her off at Jesse's place after work. They would hang out at his place, and either she would spend the night at his place, or he would drive them both to her place and they would spend the night there. One night, Jesse was caught in traffic, and Beca wound up getting caught in a huge rainstorm with no way to get into his house. He had been so upset when he got home to see her drenched through and shaking, because it was November and starting to get a little cooler. Jesse showed her where he kept the hidden key, before he proceeded to tell her that she may as well keep it, so that something like this never happened again. He made it seem like it wasn't that big of a deal, but inside she was freaking out. He kept his distance for most of the night until she finally calmed down and put it on her key chain.

Beca made her way into the house, heading directly into the kitchen to put the tulips he had given her into some water. While in there, she began munching on a banana that he kept in the bowl on his counter. As she tossed away its peel, she froze, hearing what sounded like the faint strains of music coming from upstairs. She frowned, grabbing her cell phone. She called Jesse, who picked up. "Hey, babe."

"Jesse, are you on your way home?" She asked him, trying to calm herself down, but her heart was pounding. He had made her watch too many horror movies. She was probably going to get stabbed by some rapist who would wear her head as a hat or something.

"Yeah, I should be here soon. What do you want to eat for dinner? I could make some linguine or something."

"Sure, I will put a pot of water on."

"Please don't burn down my house." He warned. She scoffed; he was sooo funny! Jackass. "Why don't you wait until I get there? Look, there is a cop up ahead, and I don't want to get in trouble for talking on the phone while driving. I will see you soon." She said her goodbyes and hung up the phone.

The music that was coming from upstairs got louder, making Beca frown. She carefully made her way out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward the stairwell that led to his second floor. She saw a lit candle with an envelope on the end table. On top of the envelope was a single white rose. Beca groaned. He was such a fucking liar. "I hate you!" She called up the stairs, and she heard his laugh.

"It took you long enough. Now read your letter!" Jesse called from upstairs. She picked up the flower, pressing her nose into its petals. She opened and read the letter, all the while sniffing the flower. _My dearest Beca, I know that this kind of cheesy romantic thing annoys the shit out of you, which makes it all the more fun for me. I am doing this now, so that you are prepared for pure EPICNESS when Valentine's Day rolls around. Think of this as a test run._

Beca stopped reading for a moment, rolling her eyes. She hated that he knew her so well. She didn't want him to know her that well, to understand that she wasn't like a normal girl. She didn't need the stupid romantic gestures and chocolates and flowers and stuffed teddy bears and fancy dinners. She would rather spend the night on the couch or in bed with pizza, a few beers, and watching him watch a movie and explain to her why he thinks it is one of the most amazing soundtracks or the best this actor or actress ever acted or the best cinematography and lighting or whatever bullshit he was saying.

"If we are still together when Valentine's Day rolls around, I will be amazed. Hell, if you are still _alive_ by the time tomorrow rolls around, I will be amazed. And, you will be lucky!" Beca called up to him, ignoring Jesse's laugh. She focused on the note again. _The last year that we have been together has been the best twelve months of my life. I know that you are probably rolling your eyes as you read this, but I thought that I would tell you all the reasons why this year has been awesome for me. So, firstly, I got to share my first kiss of the year with one of the most amazing women I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Then, three days later, after I wowed her with the most perfect first date in the entire world, I got to kiss her again. In honor of that wonderful night that led to the last twelve months of pure happiness, I would like to recreate that night with you. But, I would also like to make it better. So, if you would kindly follow the rose petals up the stairs, you will come to your next note. Bring the rose! Oh, and blow out the candle. We can't have the house go up in flames while we are busy up here! _Beca rolled her eyes. "I've had better first dates," she called out to him as she blew out the candle and make her way toward the steps. They were littered with pink, red, and white rose petals.

"I was the best first date of your life, liar!" She heard Jesse call out. She pouted as she made her way up the steps. At the top of the stairs, there was a stool with a lit candle, an envelope, and another rose, this time it was pink. "This is a fire hazard and dangerous!" Beca told him as she picked up the rose and the note. Jesse laughed from inside his room, which was shut tight. She stuck out her tongue at the door. He was getting too much pleasure from this. She opened the note, holding both of the roses in her hands. She saw that this time the letter was much longer.

_My lovely Beca, I hope that you are starting to enjoy this whole thing, because it really would suck if my wonderful girlfriend broke up with me on our first anniversary together. Oops! I used the dirty g-word! My bad! Please forgive me? Anyways, I worked hard on this whole night, and I wanted it to be fun and romantic. You are special, Beca, and you deserve all the romance in the world. Yes, I meant the stop-eating-the-paste kind of special, too. You are lucky that I like that kind of thing._ Beca rolled her eyes when she saw that he put a winking smiley face again. Jesse was such an idiot. She smiled, because he was _her_ idiot. She was sort of enjoying all of this, because it was giving her serious ammo for making fun of him for the rest of time. He was such a cheese ball, and she could use all of this to show people just how whipped he was. She focused back on the note again.

_I feel like I am the luckiest man in the entire world. For the last six months, I have gotten the chance to wake up next to you every day. Even when we fight, I have been lucky enough to change your mind before the night is through so that I can go to sleep with you in my arms and to wake up, staring at your beautiful face. I get to think about you every minute of every day. I think about how charming and surly and rude and funny and dorky and spectacular you are. I think about how insane it is that you willingly let me be a part of your life. It physically pains me when you aren't next to me, but I get through it, because I get so excited when I think about how I am going to see you again, even if it is hours away. I enjoy spending my time with you, because you are so wise, honest, and fun to be around. Plus, you smell really good._

_I know that all of this praise I am giving you is probably giving you a huge head right now, but it is all true. I know there are moments when you hold back, and I understand why you need to do that. I just hope that one day you will feel so comfortable and safe with me that you feel like you can share everything with me. But, I will spend every day discovering everything about you, because I __love__ spending my time with you. I am looking forward to spending more time with you—hopefully, __the rest of my life__. Now, I know that this is probably freaking you out a lot, so I am going to give you a few minutes to get over it. I swear, though, Beca, that if I hear you start racing down those steps and out the door, I will come running after you and throw you over my shoulder and carry you right back up here so that I can finish what I have planned for tonight. I want you to know how important you are to me. That is what tonight is about. So, take the time you need. Then, don't forget to blow out the candle._

Beca sat down on the top step, dropping the note beside her. Jesse was right. She was freaking out about what he had written. The two parts of the letter that he underlined were heavy. He basically implied that he loved her and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She was shaking, and holy crap! Were those black spots in her vision? She felt light-headed. Beca closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. The music that was playing from inside his room was some of the music he had composed over the last year that they had spent together. He had commented that some of the music had been inspired by her.

After a few minutes, Beca felt herself to calm down. What did she have to freak out about? This was Jesse. She could beat him up. He wouldn't be able to hurt a fly. He spent every moment of every day making her smile and feel happy, even when she hated him. Sure, he made her feel things that she didn't ever want to feel and wasn't ready to feel, but he knew her. He backed off when she needed him to. She felt safe with him. Beca sighed, because she knew why she was afraid of going into that room. Jesse had the power to break her heart. He had spent a very long time, gradually breaking down her walls, and now she didn't have her protective shell to make her feel safe. In his efforts to get close to her, he had left her vulnerable. She hated feeling vulnerable. The last time she had felt that way was when her mother died. She set the roses down on the step below the one she was sitting on.

Beca felt the tears slip down her cheeks. "Jesse," she called out. She needed Jesse then. She couldn't go in that room, but she needed him. He had comforted her this morning, and she needed him to do it again. The door opened, and he came rushing out. He blew out the candle and moved the stool aside, dropping down beside her.

"Becs, what's wrong?" Jesse asked, wrapping Beca in his arms. He pulled her against his chest, and she buried her face into his neck, crying. "Shit…this was too much. I suck! Please don't break up with me. I didn't mean to put so much pressure on you!" She shook her head, gripping his shirt in her hands.

"It's not that," Beca whimpered into Jesse's chest. She pulled back. She needed to be honest with him. He wiped at the tears with his thumbs, pressing a light kiss on her forehead. There it was; another one of those sweet kisses that killed her. "All this is so sweet, so amazing. It is freaking me out, but I feel like I should tell you why it is freaking me out." He nodded his head, shifting her so that he was resting against the wall, and she was between his legs, resting against his chest. Beca reached up and unclasped the necklace around her neck. She laid the necklace in Jesse's hand, running her finger over the music note.

"Why is this necklace so important to you?" Jesse asked, resting his chin on her shoulder. Beca's finger stilled, and she raised her hand to slide into the hair on the back of his neck.

"My mother gave me this necklace when I was fifteen years old. Three weeks later, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She had felt sick for awhile, but she hated the doctors, and she put off going for a long time. It was stage three by the time she did go. I was a sophomore in high school. Halfway through my junior year of high school, she died." Beca felt the tears burn her cheeks, and she closed her eyes. Jesse tightened the arm he had wrapped around her stomach, and he pressed a kiss against her shoulder. "It was me and my mom since I was ten. My dad cheated on my mom a few times, and I blamed him and hated him for it. He broke our family up, even if he lived in the same city as us. I hated the time I had to live at his house. I hated being away from her. She was my best friend." Beca wiped at her cheeks. "I need a minute." Jesse nodded his head.

"Take all the time you need." He whispered against her neck, pressing light kisses there, trying to relax her. She leaned back against his chest, eyes closed as she calmed herself down. After a few moments, she felt like she could talk again.

"I spent my sixteenth birthday in her hospital room. She had given one of the nurses some cash, asking the woman to go to a party store to buy balloons, streamers, and cheesy Disney Princess themed cups, napkins, and plates. She also had the woman pick up an ice cream cake she ordered for me. She invited the nurses and the doctors and other patients on her floor to come to the room and celebrate my birthday. It was probably the best birthday I have ever had, because it was my last birthday with her. Four months later, she died. I got to spend not even sixteen and a half years with her." Jesse turned Beca in his arms, letting her bury her face into his neck again. He ran his hands through her hair, kissing the crown of her head.

"I'm here, Becs. I'm not letting you go." He whispered into her hair.

"I'm broken, Jesse." She whispered, pulling away to look at him. Their eyes locked, and she felt like her heart was no longer beating in her chest. He probably didn't know it, but her heart belonged to him. He was holding it in his hands; he could break it so easily. He could destroy her, because the connection she had with him—it was so much bigger than her connection with Chloe. He was more than her best friend. He was her whole world, just as her mom was her whole world for six and a half years.

Beca told him all about what she went through during that nearly one and a half years of hell with her mom. She talked about how she helped her mom plan her funeral. She talked about the hell it was to live with Sheila and her dad—how Sheila acted like she was Beca's mom. How miserable she was for her the rest of her junior year and her senior year in high school. How she had purposely applied to USC to get away from her life in Atlanta. How the only two people she had ever really let in were him and Chloe. She went on and on about why it scared her and screwed her up when she read his letters to her, because she hadn't been vulnerable like this in so long. "I'm a mess, Jesse. I don't know how you can deal with me." He rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Beca, I am going to say something that is going to royally fuck up what I had planned for the final part of tonight." Jesse began, pulling back to stare into her eyes. Beca felt her breath catch in her throat, because she knew what was coming, but she couldn't bring herself to open her mouth to stop him. His arms were wrapped around her, and she didn't understand how powerless she felt just being held by him. She felt like everything in the world was right and good, just because he was holding her. She could only hope that he knew how scary that was for her. She could only hope that he knew how her heart was in his hands and that he was gentle with it—gentle with her. "I have spent every minute of everyday feeling so beyond happy for the last twelve months, because you have been a part of my life. You have been through so much, and I know that you are scared, but I need you to know that I'm not going anywhere. I am yours, Beca. The only way you can get rid of me is if you want me gone, and even then, I will put up a huge fight." He paused, and she took a deep breath. "I love you, Beca Mitchell. I know you might not be ready to say those words. I will wait as long as you need me to, but I want you to know that I love you."

Beca felt the tears fill her eyes again. She sniffed, wiping at her cheeks. Jesse gave her a small smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, and her lips, just as he had done that morning. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss when he pulled away from her. Beca thought actually hearing those words were going to kill her, but after hearing Jesse say them, she finally felt whole for the first time in the last eleven years since her mother had passed away. He made her feel whole. She broke the kiss and pulled back to look into his eyes. "I love you, too." Beca whispered, and a huge smile slid onto Jesse's face. He kissed her hard on the mouth, tangling his hands into her hair as he deepened the kiss. Even though he had the power to break her heart, she knew that he wouldn't. Not if he could help it anyways. She felt relief when she thought about how much she wanted to be always be near him. She loved him.


	16. Mine

**Mine**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Mine**_** by Taylor Swift**

**Author's Note: A huge thank you to **Hate Finding Usernames** for this song recommendation! This song screams Beca and Jesse! I love it. This one is AU, as well. Jesse attended USC (which has a music composition major. I learned that after I did research for **_**Enchanted**_**). Beca attended Barden for her freshman year. She made the same deal with her dad, so she joined the Bellas. Because Jesse was never at Barden, she was never arrested and she and Aubrey never clashed over him. They did clash over the music, but they never had the massive blowup at the Semi-Finals. The two of them eventually worked out their issues and became friends. Chloe and Aubrey were moving to LA to go to USC for grad school, so Beca decided to transfer to USC and move out there with them, with the help of her dad like he promised her. **

* * *

"You know, I was hoping that you would join a club, make friends, and then decide to stay in college when I made that deal with you back in September." Daniel Mitchell said as he put yet another cardboard box into the moving truck that was going to take his nineteen year old daughter across the country.

"Well, I _did_ join a club, and I _did_ make friends. It just turns out that those friends turned into my best friends, and they happened to be graduating at the end of the year and going to graduate school in LA." Beca said as she added her final box into the moving van. An arm dropped onto her shoulders, and she smiled at its owner. It belonged to a bubbly redhead who had accosted her in the shower on the very same day that her father had made that deal with her all those months before.

"Dr. Mitchell, I promise that Aubrey and I will take super good care of Beca." Chloe told him, squeezing Beca into her side by her neck. The brunette grunted, trying to pull away. She wasn't used to having girl friends, let alone touchy-feely ones like Chloe. There had been many occasions when Beca had to talk to the older girl about personal space. Dr. Mitchell didn't look convinced. Thankfully, Aubrey was around to make him more comfortable.

"I will make sure that she attends all of her classes." Beca rolled her eyes. After the girls learned that Beca planned on moving to LA right around the Semi-Finals competition, they told her that they were both going to graduate school at USC. Beca mentioned that she and her dad made a deal about him helping her move there if she agreed to try a club out for her first year. Chloe suggested that she move out there with them. When Beca had sat down with Chloe, Aubrey, and her dad to tell him about her plans to drop out of school at the end of the year, like they had originally planned, Dr. Mitchell had freaked out. It was Aubrey who suggested that Beca transfer to USC. The three of them would get an apartment together, and Aubrey insisted that she was going to make sure that Beca went to class. Aubrey, being pre-law, even typed up a contract for Beca and Dr. Mitchell to sign. It stated that Beca agreed to transfer to USC and to register at least part-time (approximately two to three classes per semester, instead of the usual four or five), which allowed her the time to get an internship or an entry-level job at a record label or recording studio. Dr. Mitchell signed off that he would pay for Beca's schooling and provide her with a small stipend each month if she provided him with proof that she was attending school and taking it seriously.

"Thank you, Aubrey." Beca groaned, crossing her arms.

"Can we get on the road? Some of us have summer classes starting soon," she pouted. Because she was only going to school part-time, she had registered for two summer classes, which started in three weeks. She wanted to get settled into the apartment that Chloe's mom's friend had helped them find and start looking for an internship or a job. She didn't want to rely solely on her dad's financial help for all of her money. It was LA. It was going to be expensive. She said her goodbyes to her dad, Sheila (unfortunately), and her mom, who had flown to Atlanta purely to see Beca off, not once speaking to her ex-husband.

The three girls climbed into Aubrey's big Subaru. Chloe's car was being shipped with their stuff on the moving truck that was taking all of their belongings across the country, and the three of them were going to drive across the country in Aubrey's car. Beca didn't have a car; she had sold the one that her mom and dad had put in for her sixteenth birthday. She planned on using the money that came from that (along with the gift of a thousand dollars from her mom and her new boyfriend, Glen—how dumb was this Glen guy to donate money to the nineteen year old daughter of his girlfriend of only three months when they had never even met?) to buy a new car once she got to LA. Her car wouldn't have made the trip across the country, and it would be too expensive to ship yet another car with their belongings.

This moment was huge for Beca. She was finally taking a risk. She used the excuse that her dad made her go to Barden, not letting her go to LA, but it was really because she was scared. She didn't like to admit it, but she was scared that her mixes weren't good enough. She was scared that she would never get the chance to show anyone what she could do; she was scared that even if she did get that chance, she would fail.

* * *

Beca was relieved when they finally found themselves in LA. Sure, she loved both Chloe and Aubrey, but she felt like killing herself by the time they had arrived. Being stuck in a such a confined space with Aubrey and Chloe (who insisted on singing the entire time to Miley Cyrus [which is fine for like _three_ songs, but really who wanted to listen to _every_ Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana song ever recorded?]), and then they had to share hotel rooms at night? After awhile, it became torture. Beca seriously feared for her own mental health—or their lives—if it would continue to be like this when they lived together in their tiny, three-bedroom apartment. The road trip lasted about a week, and when they arrived, their stuff had already been unloaded at their apartment as was agreed upon with their new landlord, a nice older woman who promised to check in with them often.

Within a week, Chloe already had a boyfriend (that girl was just about as fast as Stacie and Fat Amy were, but a lot more discriminatory in who she let 'penetrate' her) and Aubrey was already making good friends in the law office that she had gotten a job in as a secretary. Beca, on the other hand, was struggling, because not only did she have to worry about getting books and learning her way around the campus, she also had to find a job and a car.

Beca was on the phone with Chloe, walking in the direction of the campus with nothing on her person except her wallet, cell phone, a map of the campus, a newspaper, and pair of sunglasses. She decided that she needed a coffee, because Chloe's constant chatter about how in love she was with Ryan already. She walked into a small diner that was a few blocks from the campus. "Chloe, would you shut up about Ryan? You guys have known each other for like five fucking minutes. You don't love him." She muttered, rolling her eyes. She slipped her sunglasses from where they were perched on her nose to settle them on top of her head. She sat down at an empty table when she saw that the diner believed in the customers seating themselves.

"But, Beca! He is sooo cute! And so funny. And so smart! Seriously, he is perfect. Plus, he is a beyond awesome kisser. Actually, his tongue is great at other things, too." Beca groaned as she stretched the paper out on the table in front of her.

"Gross! Stop! I don't want to hear about that!" She muttered.

"He has a hot roommate. I could introduce you…" Chloe began, but Beca shot her down almost instantly.

"Dude, no!" The idea of relationships gave Beca hives. She was surprised that she could even handle being friends with Chloe and Aubrey, or the other Bellas back in Atlanta, let alone trying to navigate the sea of romance. She wasn't like normal girls. Her dad's excessive cheating and her mother's inability to bounce back from their divorce when she was eight, going from guy to guy, left Beca with the idea that love didn't exist, or at the very least never lasted. She avoided relationships at all costs, because she didn't want to go through what she watched her parents go through when she was growing up. She was very careful not to let her heart get attached when she did have a fling. They were nothing more than flings, though.

"C'mon, Beca," Chloe moaned. "You two would be so cute together. Plus, if he is anything like Ryan, you will be a very lucky girl."ree songs, but really who wanted to listen to Evho insisted on singing the entire time to Miley

"Set Aubrey up with him, then." Beca suggested, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had a headache.

"She is definitely not his type." Chloe's statement caused Beca to snort.

"What? Anal-retentive, obsessive-compulsive, and bat-shit crazy isn't his cup of tea? What's wrong with this guy?" She rolled her eyes.

"Well, he actually reminds me of that guy who worked at the radio station with you…that British guy." So, he was covered in tattoos and/or piercings, which is why he was Beca's type, and not Aubrey's. "His tongue is pierced." Chloe said, as if that would entice Beca. The brunette crinkled her nose. She dug tattoos—obviously, since she was covered in them—and piercings—again, she had quite a few—but she didn't find herself usually drawn to the over the top, alternative look. She liked more wholesome guys, actually; it gave her the added thrill of corrupting them, especially when older people saw the two of them walking down the street near each other. They would take one look at her and think she was bad news for whatever guy she was walking beside. Within two weeks, Beca would prove them right, dumping him for his best friend, his enemy, another random guy on the street. It didn't matter who the next one was, but she had been told that she had broken a few hearts, because she refused to let anyone get too close.

"I'm hanging up now. The guy could look like David Beckham, have a gold dick, and be God's gift to women in bed, and I wouldn't date him, purely based on the reason that he has a tongue piercing and thinks that makes him hot." Beca told Chloe. She heard someone choke on their own tongue beside her, and she looked up to see that there was a cute guy dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, with a dirty apron tied around his waist. His dark hair was mussed, and his dark eyes were widened in shock. "Shit, I gotta go. I think I just broke my waiter. See you at home later, Chlo." She hung up on Chloe and smiled as sweetly as she could. "Um, hi…" She said.

The waiter snapped back to reality, planting a goofy smile on his face and placing a menu in front of her. "Good afternoon. My name's Jesse. May I take your drink order?" He was obviously trying to appear professional, considering the tail-end of the conversation he just caught her having. Beca bit her bottom lip, trying to keep from laughing.

"Black coffee, please." She told him, picking up the menu, holding it back towards him. "Also, an order of cheese fries, please. I'm pretty easy," she said, shrugging. He snorted, taking the menu from her.

"Obviously not, considering your phone call." His eyes widened when he realized that he actually said that out loud. "Oh, shit! I'm so sorry! Please don't tell my manager!" He said quickly, and Beca couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her.

"Ehh, it's only because of the tongue ring. I don't get down with them," she joked, winking in order to alleviate the waiter's fears that she would get him in trouble. He shook his head, a huge smirk on his face.

"Right, so…I will go put your order in then." He turned, but Beca grabbed his arm.

"Wait. Do you have a pen that I can borrow?" She asked him. The waiter—Jesse?—turned back to hand her his pen; he gave her another smile and then left again. Using the pen, Beca began circling possible jobs and interviews listed in the paper. Jesse returned with her coffee and fries about ten minutes later. He gave her one last smile, laying the check down.

"You have a nice day." He said, backing away. "By the way," he paused. "You're right about the tongue piercing." He scrunched his nose as if in disgust. "If you know what you're doing, you don't need it…" With that, he waved and walked away. Beca couldn't stop her jaw from dropping open. She certainly didn't expect that from her waiter.

* * *

The next time they saw each other, it was already September. Beca was able to schedule all of her classes on Mondays, which allowed her the remainder of the week for her job as a glorified coffee-fetcher at a record label. She was tired and hungry. Her classes fell during the typical lunch hours, and she was no morning person, so she usually wasn't up early enough to get breakfast before she got to class.

"Hey, I know you," Beca heard someone say behind her. She paused, glancing over her shoulder. Her eyes found the cute waiter she had met over the summer, who had left her with quite the comment before disappearing from her life for good.

"No, you don't." She said, not wanting to encourage him.

"I totally do."

"You totally don't." She rolled her eyes, speeding up, hoping to get away from him. She wasn't in the mood to have some guy following her around the campus.

"Okay, fine. I don't know you." He jogged to catch up with her. He jumped in front of her, grabbing her by the upper arms to stop her. She glared at him, and he released her arms, smiling softly at her. "Let me introduce myself, then. I'm Jesse Swanson. I'm a sophomore. Music composition major. I'm from a really small town in Ohio. I want to score movies; I want to move people with my music, which is why I chose USC. I work in a diner for spending cash." Jesse held his hand out to her. She stared at him, crossing her arms. "C'mon."

Beca rolled her eyes, sighing. "I'm Beca Mitchell. I'm a sophomore, part-time. I transferred here from Barden University in Atlanta, Georgia. I am a music industry major. I live in an apartment off-campus with my two best friends, Chloe and Aubrey; they are going to grad school here. I work at a record label as an assistant." She refused to shake his hand, and finally he dropped it.

"It's nice to meet you, Beca." He said, putting his hands into his jean pockets. "So, where are you headed?" She narrowed his eyes. "What? Now that we know each other, I figured we could hang out and get to know each other even better. I know that I don't have tattoos or that whole edgy, alternative vibe going on, like you, but I do know I have one thing in my favor." She furrowed her brow, confused. He stuck out his tongue momentarily. "No tongue ring."

Beca tried to keep herself from smiling at him. "You are such a weirdo." She muttered, pushing past him. She got a few feet away, glancing over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

"Where are we headed?" Jesse asked as he caught up to her.

"Well, I am famished. I know this little diner nearby that has pretty good fries." She said casually as they walked in the direction of the diner where she had first met him.

"Oh, yeah? I think I know someone who works there. I could probably get us a discount." He told her, winking.

"That's pretty cool."

* * *

Jesse and Beca started a routine. They would always meet after classes on Mondays, go to the diner, order a bunch of fries (sometimes other food would make it onto the table with them, but usually it was just fries), and do their schoolwork in silence. He seemed to pick up on the fact that she liked to keep her distance. She didn't open up much to him; occasionally, she answered a question about who her favorite band was or whether she thought this singer or that singer performed this song best. Beca thoroughly enjoyed shocking him when she told him that she didn't watch movies, because she got bored and never made it to the ends. Jesse insisted that they start having movications, but she told him that he was an idiot and there was no way she would allow him to force her to watch a movie with him.

One day, Jesse led Beca her away from the diner. "Where are we going?" She asked.

"Do you trust me?" She shook her head almost immediately.

"Whenever people say that, someone either ends up dead, arrested, or seriously injured—something bad always happens. So, no, I don't trust you." He rolled his eyes, grabbing hold of her upper arm. He pulled her along with him, until she finally begrudgingly yanked it away and agreed to walk with him. "Where are we?" They had walked in silence until they made it to the beach. She smacked his upper arm. "Why the hell are we at the beach?"

"Relax." Jesse slipped off his sneakers and socks, tucking the socks into his shoes. "C'mon." Beca groaned, pulling off her shoes and socks, too. They carried their shoes in their hands and made their way down the beach to an area of beach that was secluded. Jesse dropped his shoes and opened his schoolbag. He pulled out two folded towels. He handed one to Beca and then stretched out the other on the beach. He dropped his bag onto the edge of it and sat down.

"I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this." She unfolded the towel that he gave to her and stretched it out beside his. She sat down and pouted. "I'm starving, you know."

Jesse opened his schoolbag and pulled out two brown paper bags. He handed one to Beca, who cocked an eyebrow at him. "It isn't our usual four plates of fries, but I figured it would be enough to tide you over." She carefully opened the bag, rolling her eyes when she saw a large green apple, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, three chocolate chip cookies, and some carrot sticks. "Oh, I nearly forgot! I hope they aren't too warm." He dug through his schoolbag and pulled out two juice pouches. "I hope you like grape." He handed one of the juice pouches to Beca.

"You made us lunches. Healthy lunches." Beca stared at Jesse for a moment, and he shrugged in response, giving her a small smile. She carefully opened the juice pouch and took a sip. "Tell me something, Jesse. Does this kind of thing work with girls?" She asked, waving her hand at their impromptu picnic. His smile turned into a smirk, and he shrugged again.

"I've been told that I am charmingly persistent. And adorable." Beca scoffed. She opened her sandwich and dug into it.

"You're girlfriend must love you." She said casually. She didn't dare look at him. He had somehow annoyed her into tolerating his presence. She tried to ignore the way her stomach twisted.

"Actually, I don't have a girlfriend." Jesse told her, and Beca gasped, like it was a surprise. (Okay, so maybe it was sort of a surprise, because he was cute, funny, and very charming. Plus, this whole beachside picnic that he setup for them was kind of sweet. If she were the type of girl to appreciate that kind of thing, which she wasn't.)

"Really!? How shocking! You have juice pouches and your annoying, obsessive appreciation for movies." Jesse rolled his eyes at Beca's overreaction.

"Just shut up and enjoy your lunch." He told her. They ate in silence for awhile. "It's hot." He muttered, casually pulling his t-shirt off and sitting beside her in his jean shorts. She took a sip of her juice pouch, trying to keep her eyes from straying towards his body.

"Yeah," she said, setting down her juice and pulling off her t-shirt so that she was in her tank top over her jean shorts, dropping it on top of her schoolbag. She finished off her juice and shoved all of her trash into the brown paper bag, which she set onto the sand beside her. She shifted further down the towel, placing her schoolbag and t-shirt behind her, using it as a pillow. She dug her toes in the sand, sliding her sunglasses in place.

Beca heard Jesse shift beside her. She glanced over, seeing that he had taken the same position for her. He began talking to her about his hometown, his best friends from high school, his younger sister who annoyed the shit of out him, his parents who embarrassed him in ways that he was sure where on purpose, and his ex-girlfriend who he thought he loved. She didn't say anything, but he didn't seem to mind. After awhile she sat up, resting her arms on her knees, her chin on top of them. It was starting to get darker, and the lights of the city were reflecting on top of it, as were the stars.

Jesse sat up so that he was in line with her. "I had fun today, Beca." He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. Beca froze, turning to glare at him. He scrunched his nose and removed his arm. "Sorry. I forgot you had issues with personal space." She bit her lip, shocked by the feeling of loss that she felt when he removed his arm from around her shoulders.

"Did I say you should move your arm?" She said after a few moments, and he grinned at her. He put his arm around her again, and she shifted so that her head was lying on his shoulder. They stared into the water for some time longer, and she couldn't help but think that this boy got to her. She never intended to start to fall for him, but he somehow broke down her first few walls enough to get in. Beca knew that he was the best thing that had happened to her since she had made the decision to risk everything and move across the country with Chloe and Aubrey.

* * *

Their date by the beach turned into another date and another. By the end of the school year, they had been together for seven months already. Jesse went home to Ohio for the summer, and Beca kept freaking out. The distance, the time apart, it was too much for her. She wanted to bail on their relationship, no matter how much she cared for him, missed him, because it brought up too many memories for her. Her dad would cheat on her mom whenever she went away for work, and she was sure that some of the conferences he went to speak at were probably just excuses to have more affairs. Her mom never recovered from the divorce, either—she just went from guy to guy to guy. She had no model of what a stable relationship looked like, so the first chance to bail came for their relationship during that summer apart. She wanted nothing more than to take it, but she would see Jesse's sweet face over skype, or she would get a text message from him that said he missed her or heard a song on the radio that made him think of her, and she refrained. The day that Jesse came back to California, Beca dove on him. She covered his face with kisses, and she told him that he was never allowed to leave her for that long again. Jesse thought she was being ridiculous, brushing it off as no big deal; he told her that he missed her, too.

Beca knew that he didn't understand, so she finally decided to tell him the truth about her childhood. "Jess, I need to tell you why I have been so freaked out lately." She told him about the constant fighting when she was growing up. She told him about the cheating that her father did. She told him about how her mother now went from man to man. She told him about how her dad finally left, abandoning not only her mom, but also Beca. She told him about how he was too busy with Sheila, her step-monster, to really care about his relationship with his own daughter. She talked about how much all of that screwed her up, how she was always waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. She never felt safe, secure, not until she met him. She explained how hard it was for her to be apart from him; she knew that he wasn't the type to cheat on her, but she was so scared that it could happen.

Jesse seemed to understand her then. He broke down those walls she had built up around her heart to protect herself from getting her. He said that he loved her; he said that they weren't going to repeat her parents' mistakes. He promised her that he wasn't going to break her heart. He told her that he was sticking with her until she didn't want him anymore.

They made their way through school, graduating. Jesse got a job as an assistant composer at a production company, whereas Beca got promoted to an assistant producer at the label where she had been working for the last three years. Their dreams were starting to come true. He got an apartment with a friend from school, and they began leaving things at each other's places. She couldn't believe that she actually had a drawer at her _boyfriend's_ apartment. She never in her wildest dreams thought that she would be the person who would have a boyfriend, let alone one where she was practically living with him.

Things weren't always easy for them, though. Beca's dad stopped giving her financial support after she officially graduated from college. Her job didn't pay much, so almost all of her money was going towards rent and car payments and all of her bills. She was stressed with that. Then, Aubrey moved out of the apartment, because she and her boyfriend that she had met during law school decided to move in together. Ryan and Chloe had stayed together after all of these years, and he moved into the apartment with her and Beca. He then proposed, so Beca knew that she wasn't going to be able to stay with Chloe and Ryan for much longer. She needed to start looking for an apartment.

Then, suddenly, Beca's bosses seemed to realize just how awesome she was at producing, and they gave her a big project at work. The responsibility, the stress that came with proving herself, the extra work that she had to do now—all of it got to be too much. She was always tired. She was always miserable. She became too busy for Jesse, and he began to resent her for it. They began fighting. Beca was scared that their relationship was going to fail. It got to be too much.

Beca began to withdraw from Jesse and their relationship when she started to notice that her fatigue was excessive, she felt sick to her stomach, and her period went from spotting two months in a row to being nonexistent. She hoped that it was just the stress of her new promotion, the loss of one her best friends (sure, Aubrey had only moved out to live with her boyfriend, but they went from seeing each other pretty much every day to maybe once a week or every other week), and the realization that she had to find a new place to live eventually. Chloe's impending nuptials were a constant reminder that she was going to lose the one place where she felt safe and secure for the first time in so long. When her symptoms didn't improve once things started to settle down some (she got used to her promotion, Chloe kept insisting that she didn't have to leave yet, and Aubrey made a better effort to meet with her every few days), she began to suspect that she was pregnant. It was all too much for Beca, the girl who never believed that love existed, let alone lasted. She tried to focus on how easy things had been for them when they first got together. She thought about their first date at the beach with the bagged lunches. She thought about all of their movications. She thought about all of the times he told her that he loved her and made her laugh and smile and feel so good.

* * *

Beca and Jesse got into their biggest fight yet when she came to his apartment one Friday night for the weekend two years after they had graduated from college. They had been together for five years, which boggled her mind. He told her that he had the solution to all of their problems. He said that his roommate got a job in Florida, so Beca could move in with him. His apartment was only a two bedroom, so the rent and utilities were cheaper; she would be closer to work than her apartment with Chloe and Ryan. She would also not have to worry about finding another apartment with some stranger. Beca freaked out. She wasn't ready for this. She hadn't even mentioned to him that she suspected that she was pregnant. She was always waiting for the moment that he would wake up and not want to be with her. She was waiting for him to tell her that he got a job in New York or in Seattle or Philadelphia or somewhere. She was waiting for him to tell her that he had fallen in love with someone else. She was always waiting for something to go wrong with their relationship, because it was everything she had ever known.

They fought well into the middle of the night. Finally, Beca couldn't take it anymore. She was so sure that one of them would say the words that she was dreading hearing or saying, so she ran out of the house sobbing. She had made it about halfway across the street before Jesse was grabbing her by the upper arm, spinning her around to face him. Beca was so sure that he was going to end it, right then and there at half past two in the morning, in the middle of an empty street. "Where the hell do you think you are going, Mitchell?" Jesse asked her, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at her. "It's the middle of the night. You can't just run out in the middle of our fights."

"Just say it, Jesse. Just end it. I know that you want to," Beca muttered, not daring to look at him. She wiped at her cheeks.

"What?" Jesse reached out, raising her by the chin to look her in the eyes. "How can you say that?" He shook his head. "Do you remember what I promised you when I got back in August after our first summer apart?" She shook her head. "I told you that I was never going to leave you. I don't intend on leaving you now, even if you are beyond bat-shit crazy right now."

Beca let out the sigh of relief, wrapping her arms around Jesse's neck, burying her face into his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him. "I can't lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere, Beca. I love you," he whispered. He pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Remember our first date, the picnic by the beach?" She nodded her head. "Did you know that I loved you even then? I think I fell in love with you after our first meeting in that diner I used to work at, but I know for sure that I loved you when I took us on that picnic. I sat next to you on that beach, knowing how much I loved you and wanted more than friendship with you. I was so scared. Your ear spike is crazy intimidating," he joked, making her laugh. "Seriously, though, you would stare into the water, and I was staring at you. Every time you looked over at me, it felt like the very first time I laid eyes on you; it left me breathless, and I just knew that I had to do something to show you how much I felt for you. Every time I look at you, it's like the first time all over again. That day by the water, I knew that I was in love with this girl who was so careful with her heart that she built up so many walls around herself to try and keep everyone out. I knew that I had to be careful with you, because you were scared, but I knew that I had to have you in my life. Your dad fucked up royally, Beca, but I'm not that kind of guy. I love you. I don't want anyone else. I want you and only you. You're the best thing that's ever been mine."

"I love you, too." Beca said again. Jesse kissed her. He took her hand in his and led her back inside.

She went to take a shower. She was so tired; the lack of sleep from the last few days was finally catching up with her. After her shower, Beca pulled out the pregnancy test that she had shoved in the bottom of her bag. She took it and began pacing around the bathroom, so scared of what the results might be. After the longest five minutes of her life, she approached the test and saw that it was positive. They were going to be parents.

Beca quickly dressed in a pair of Jesse's boxers and one of his t-shirts with a USC sweatshirt jacket over top. She carefully washed the tip of the pregnancy test and then shoved it into one pockets of the jacket. She slowly walked toward the living room.

Beca found Jesse lying on his back on the couch, his head turned toward the television. He was watching a movie, of course. That wasn't anything new. She felt unsure how to approach him. This was huge. They were going to be parents, and they just had a fight over whether or not Beca would move in with him. Now they definitely had to move in together; they were going to have a baby. Beca carefully made her way over to him. Jesse shifted one his legs so that it was bent, hanging off the couch, with his foot flat on the floor. She knelt between his legs, using the back of the couch for balance, and laid down on her stomach so that her head was lying on his chest, over his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands on her back. She began tracing nonsensical patterns on his chest over his t-shirt.

"Jess," Beca whispered as she shifted so that her chin was resting on his chest. Jesse turned to look her in the eye. "There something I need to show you." She whispered.

"What's up?" He asked her, running one of his hands through her hair. She stuck her hand into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out the pregnancy test. She set it down on his chest, allowing his eyes to take in the plus sign on it.

"Can you believe it? We're pregnant." She sat up, once again, using the back of the couch for balance. She was kneeling between his legs, wringing her hands nervously.

"Holy shit." Jesse grabbed the test and stat up, staring at it in his hands. Beca bit her lip. "Holy shit."

"Say something else, please…" She whispered. His eyes rose to meet hers, and a grin erupted on his face. It was in that moment then that she knew that they were going to be okay; they were going to make it. They were for forever. This baby would only bring them closer together. She licked her bottom lip.

"We're having a baby," Jesse said, pulling her into a tight hug, pressing several loud kisses against her cheek and neck. Beca laughed, because it tickled. "We're gonna have a baby." He crowed over and over, kissing every inch of her skin that was close to his mouth. He pulled away from her to plant a huge kiss on her lips. When the kiss was over, he looked into her eyes. "You are so moving in now."

Beca laughed again, rolling her eyes. "You are such a nerd." She told him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him again.

"I love you so much, Beca," Jesse said into the kiss. He broke it and laid his hands on her still flat stomach. "Hi, baby. I'm your daddy. I love your mommy very, very much. One day she is going to make me the happiest person in the world, because she is going to marry me, but for now, I am happy with just getting her to live with your daddy." Beca smacked his arm, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She could totally see it now; they were going to live happily ever after. He was hers, and she was his; this baby was theirs.


	17. Begin Again

**Begin Again**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Begin Again**_** by Colbie Caillat**

**Author's Note: Finally updating my **_**Stay, Stay, Stay**_** series. A big thank you to **lyrically-correct** for this song suggestion. I hope that you like it. This one is a future-fic that takes place during their sophomore year. Flashbacks are in italics and divided from the rest of the story.**

* * *

Although winter was over, it was still pretty cool in Atlanta, Georgia on the Barden University campus. Beca Mitchell pulled the zipper up on her faux-leather jacket, hoping to keep the bite of the cool air from seeping through the thin layers of her tank top and thin, long-sleeved shirt. The sun was hidden in the clouds and the sky was a little gray; it was one of those annoying days where one minute it was bright and sunny, and the next moment might include a sudden downpour of rain (or snow, depending on just how cold it was that day). She kept her head down, pulling the hat lower on her head to cover the tips of her ears. She didn't want to look around her, because there were too many memories in this quad. A group of four or five people passed by her, and one of the girls squealed at one of her friends, "_Jessie_! You are such a slut! I can't believe you slept with _him_!" The thing that stood out to Beca, though, was the name: Jessie, but in her mind it was _Jesse_. She smiled sadly to herself when she thought about a moment when she had screamed out his name in the middle of the quad.

* * *

_Beca was listening to one of her mixes on her iPod as she walked to one of her remaining classes during the last three weeks of school after the ICCA Finals competition. It was the last week of April, and it was pretty warm, a lot warmer (and sunnier) than it had been for the last few weeks. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a tank top, with a pair of sneakers on her feet. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail that morning, but most of her hair had fallen out by noon, and it was now nearly two in the afternoon. She screamed when someone grabbed her from behind, wrapping their arms around her waist and picking her up to spin her in a circle. When she was finally placed back onto the ground, she immediately turned around, punching the laughing brunette boy in his chest. "Jesse! I fucking hate you!" She yelled, punching him repeatedly. He just laughed, catching her by the wrists in one hand, keeping her from hitting him. Using the other hand to wrap around her waist, he pulled her against his chest, forcing her to bend her arms. _

"_Hi," he grinned at her, leaning towards her. He hesitated, his nose brushing against hers; this would be their first in-public kiss since the Finals, and she could tell he wasn't sure how comfortable she would be with it. It was almost as if he was afraid that it would scare her away, that the kiss at the Finals was a fluke, since she had shied away from holding his hand or letting him wrap an arm around her in public, let alone let him try to kiss her. She rolled her eyes, standing on her toes to press her lips to his._

_Jesse released her wrists to wrap the other arm around her waist; Beca immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him deepen the kiss. After a few minutes, she became aware of her surroundings. She broke the kiss, smiling up at him when she let her heels touch the ground again. "Hi," she responded. "Walk me to psych?" He nodded his head, taking her hand in his, interlacing their fingers. She led him towards Wister Hall, where her psych class was held._

* * *

There were a lot of moments like this in the last eleven months that they had been an official couple. While some of those good moments weren't always held on the sunniest or warmest days, she still thought of them as happy, sunny moments in their relationships. There was the time that she dared him to go streaking through the quad in the middle of night in the middle of January. She nearly peed her pants when he came running up to her, his entire body bright red, his hands cupping himself between his legs, jumping from one bare foot to the other, with a look of complete horror on his face. She immediately wrapped a blanket around them both, pressing herself against his chest and rubbing her arms on his arms. She had got him back to their dorm (they had both requested to stay in the same residence hall that year, Everett Hall, the same floor, in fact) and forced him into the shower with her. He was so cold that he was shaking, but she refused to let him turn the water up too hot, because she knew that it wouldn't be good for him. After the shower helped warm him up a little, especially since it was with her, she brought him back to his room (thankfully, Benji had been away for the weekend) and _used her body heat_ to warm him up the rest of the way.

There was the time that she had gotten each of the Bellas to sign up for a shift to serenade Jesse all day from the moment he left class until he got to the next one. Suffice to say, he was not _happy_ with her that day, because people were staring at him all day as he was trailed by one girl filming him on a digital camera and another girl singing random songs from Abba, Ace of Base, and other female bands and singers that the old Bellas used to sing during competitions, because he had made fun of Beca's decision to use some of the Bellas old school songs in her mix for the Semi-Finals competition last month. She had been amused, though, and cheered him up by promising him that she would let him plan the cheesiest of cheesy dates he could envision for her birthday that was the week before this year's Finals competition, on the sixteenth of April.

Beca frowned, because it looked like that wasn't happening this year. She wiped at the lone tear that slipped down her cheek. They had just had their worst fight ever in the last eleven months that they had been together. Sure, it wasn't like they didn't have quite a few fights over the last (nearly) year; these were their gray, rainy moments. There had been moments when he was a total douche bag and she had stormed out the door, completely pissed off and yelling that she didn't want to talk to him until he realized just how fucking annoying he was. There were moments when she shut down, because he was getting a little too close or because of a fight with her dad or because someone had said something about how "cute" they were or a smattering of other things. She remembered their first fight as a couple.

* * *

_It was two weeks into the semester, on a Sunday, and she had overslept, missing their breakfast date. It wasn't like she had planned on it, but she had stayed up late working on possible mixes to present the Bellas for their first rehearsal. They were meeting to discuss what their hopes were for the semester, to talk about what song they were planning on using for the auditions that were going to be held the last week of September, and to start making plans for the mixers and the fundraisers that they were going to hold during the first semester for their entire competition season. She went to bed at two, fully expecting to wake up at eight to get ready and meet Jesse by nine, but she had overslept. Before she knew it, she heard a loud pounding on her door (a single room this year, because after dealing with a roommate like Kimmie Jin the previous year, she had convinced her dad to splurge for the single room so that she wouldn't have to deal with another shitty roommate that year until she could get an suite with a couple of the girls for her junior and senior year), causing her jump about two feet in the air and fall out of her bed. She groaned, pulling the blankets that were twisted around her legs off of her. She stood up, rubbing a hand through her hair, walking toward the door. She opened it to see a seething Jesse. She groaned again, rubbing a hand over her face, trying to wake up. "Hi." She said, yawning. "What are you doing here?"_

"_Are you fucking kidding me, Beca?" He said, throwing his hands up in the air. She frowned at his tone and angry facial expression._

"_What crawled up your ass?" She muttered, turning around and walking over to her dresser to grab her brush, running it through her hair. When she was finished brushing out the knots from her bed-head, she pulled it up into a messy bun._

"_You're not being serious right now!" She turned to face him again, seeing that he was still standing in the doorway of her room, arms crossed, face scrunched in anger. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste from her shower caddy before sliding her feet into the slippers she had by her bed. _

"_I don't understand what you're so angry about. Talk to me, dude."_

"_Well, _dude_, do you know what time it is?" She frowned, glancing at her clock. Her face paled when she saw it was quarter to ten in the morning. _Shit_, she thought._

"_Oh, Jess, I'm so sorry!" Beca rushed over to her cell phone where she it was charging on the shelf next to her bed. It was on silent, and she saw that she had fifteen unread texts from Jesse and three missed calls. She closed her eyes for a moment, because she was so sure that she had set an alarm the night before when she was climbing into bed. She clicked on the icon of a little clock, looking at the alarm she had set. She groaned when she saw that she had set it for eight _p.m._ rather than a.m. "Damn it! I was so tired last night when I set the alarm that I set it for the wrong time."_

"_You and I were supposed to meet this morning for breakfast. We planned it out that Sundays were going to be our day, starting with breakfast at nine in the morning, because our schedules completely suck this semester. When I'm in classes, you are working at the station, and vise versa. We have practices during most of three of the five week nights, plus two hour practices on Saturdays, and the fact that we need to make time for actually doing our schoolwork, so Sundays were supposed to be _our_ days—the day that we forget about everything else and just spend time together. It is our _first_ Sunday together since we made the plan last week, and you're already skipping it? That's fucked up, Beca."_

"_I'm sorry! It's not like I intended to. I overslept, Jess. It was an accident. Believe me! I want to be with you. I want to spend all day with you, being annoyed to death by the marathon of stupid movies forced on me and just _being_ with you."_

"_Oh, like I believe that." He scoffed, crossing his arms. She frowned._

"_You think I did this on purpose?"_

"No_," he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm pissed. I don't know what I'm saying." She stared at him with her eyebrows raised. "I'm being a total douche right now, right?" She nodded her head. He stepped forward, groaning. "I'm sorry. I just…I sat there for like forty-five minutes, Bec. I got there at like ten of nine to get us a nice table, and I sat there for like fifteen minutes. I figured you were running late, and I was starved, so I left my stuff at the table and went to wait in the omelet line. I texted you to let you know where the table was and then when I was in the line; I made it through the line, got my omelet, and I figured that you didn't get an omelet, so I went back to the table. I saw no indication that you had arrived, so I texted you again. I sat down to eat…" He trailed off. "It went like that for forty-five minutes while I ate my breakfast, alone, texting and calling you, trying to figure out where you were. I was so pissed, because you stood me up." He closed his eyes, sighing. "I was…hurt…"_

"_I know. I'm sorry that I overslept, Jess." She didn't take a step towards him, though, because she was upset—she was _pissed_; she was _hurt._ He thought that she had bailed on him; he came here, yelling at her. _

"_I'm sorry that I overreacted." He took another step forward. They were within an arms distance of each other, but they still didn't dare to touch each other until they knew that they were okay. "I just…I really like you, Beca. I'm so sorry that I was being such an asshole. Please forgive me?" She took a deep breath before nodding her head. He smiled, closing the distance between them. He went to kiss her, but she turned her face away. "What?"_

"_I didn't get to brush my teeth yet." She pouted, and he shrugged._

"_Eh, I don't care." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, maybe we avoid the open-mouth kisses until you brush your teeth, but we just had our first fight, and I want to kiss my girlfriend." She rolled her eyes, pressing a light kiss to his lips before she pushed past him go brush her teeth, so that they could have a much better makeup. _

* * *

Thinking about those sad moments made her think about their last fight—the fight that probably ended everything. She wiped at another tear that slipped from her eye. She reached the library, her destination. She had planned on going there to study, because she couldn't sit in her room anymore. It made her want to cry to look around her room and see the small traces of him, the screen saver of her computer showing a series of pictures of them, photo booth strips of pictures taped to her mirror and dresser, a box of popcorn and a couple of DVDs on one of her shelves that he insisted on leaving there, a stray t-shirt or pair of socks on the floor. She sat down on the stairs, not having the energy or the desire to make it the rest of the way up those stairs and into the building. She literally had to hold back the strangled sob that filled her chest when her iPod started playing their song. She crossed her arms, resting them on her knees; she pressed her forehead against her arms, and she sighed, trying to keep from crying.

"Beca?" Beca jumped, looking up to see Jesse standing in front of her. One of his hands was holding onto the strap of his backpack that was thrown over his shoulder; the other was shoved firmly into the pocket of his jeans. She ran a hand through her hair, sniffling slightly. She really hoped that he couldn't tell that she was crying. If this was it…if things were over between them, she didn't want to show him how much it was affecting her. If she didn't have him, then she could at least have her pride.

"Jesse." She said after a moment.

"What are you doing _here_?" She furrowed her brow.

"What do you mean? I didn't realize that the library had property of _Jesse Swanson_ painted on the front of it." She snapped. He narrowed his eyes.

"I didn't realize you even knew that Barden had a library considering the fact that you hardly do any schoolwork or even study for classes." She glared at him. Okay, so they were obviously still pissed off at each other. If they couldn't cool down, she was so sure that one of them would say something that they would regret (or that would seriously destroy her fully). She shook her head, standing up. She grabbed her school bag from where she had dropped it on the step beside her. She stormed past him, not feeling like going into the library anymore, because he was obviously going to be there. "Wait! Shit, Becs."

She ignored him, continuing back in the direction of her room. She could cry there. She could be alone and actually admit to herself that she loved this boy and that fighting with him like this was killing her. She couldn't do that in front of him. She was still so hurt, so destroyed by what he had said. "C'mon, Beca, please!" She felt him grab her by the upper arm; she tried to jerk it out of his hold, but she couldn't because he was so much stronger than her.

"Leave me alone, Jesse. I'm trying to…I just…I need to be alone right now."

"I think I have left you alone long enough. We need to talk." She shook her head.

"I don't want to talk!" She said harshly, her voice cracking. She clamped her eyes shut, trying to keep from crying. "I told you last week that I never wanted to speak to you again; I…uh…I just…fuck, leave me alone." She opened her eyes, and she found his brown eyes studying her face. She felt her eyes tear up (shit! She didn't want that to happen!), and she looked away again. "_Please_ leave me alone."

"Becs, are you crying?" He asked quietly. "I don't want you to cry," he said, pulling her into a hug.

Beca didn't want to melt into the hug, because she didn't want to forgive Jesse. She didn't want to forget what he said, what she said, what they had fought about. She didn't want to forgive him (and herself) for what happened between them that night. But, it was Jesse; he smelled so good, felt so good, so right, and she couldn't stop herself from burying her face into his chest, letting him run his hands up and down her back. She felt her shoulders start to shake, and she tried her best to stop herself from crying all over him. "I don't want to do this here." She said, jerking away from him, wiping at her cheeks. He nodded his head, grabbing her by the hand. He pulled her in the direction of their residence hall. She kept her head low, wiping at her cheeks every now and again. She felt him glancing over his shoulder at her.

Finally, they reached their hall, and he led her towards her room on the second floor. She quickly unlocked the door, walking in. She knew that he was following her, and she dropped onto her bed, ignoring the sound of the door shutting and the lock sliding into place, ignoring the way that the bed dipped when he sat down beside her. She froze when she felt him wrap his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She began crying then, loud, obnoxious, heaving gasps and wails. She knew that she was an ugly crier, and she hated showing weakness, especially this kind of cry, in front of other people, especially him. She almost expected to hear him laugh at her, but he just hugged her tighter to his chest. The only thing that made her feel better was the idea that she probably was getting snot all over the front of his chest.

After about fifteen minutes of crying, Beca finally stopped crying. She was exhausted at that point and beyond thirsty. She pulled away from Jesse, grabbing her tissues to scrub at her eyes, nose, and cheeks. He stood up, seeming to know her well enough to grab a couple of juice pouches from her fridge (he left them there for their movie nights), handing her one. She took it greedily, sucking it down, using it as a momentary distraction from what was coming. She hoped that this wasn't the end of everything. She loved him too much, and she didn't want to lose him. It was the first time she had felt safe with someone since her mom cheated on her dad and he left them (her). "You okay?" He asked her, and she closed her eyes, because, _no_, she wasn't okay.

"Not really." She said finally. He frowned, sitting down next to her. He tentatively reached for her hand, laying his over hers.

"I'm sorry that I said those things to you." She closed her eyes, hearing him yell at her in this very room. His arms were spread wide, his chest was heaving, his hair was a mess, and his face and chest were bright red—from anger, from hurt, from the fact that they had just finished having sex.

* * *

"_How the hell am I supposed to react to this, Beca? It was supposed to be only a few weeks, not a whole summer. Certainly not an entire year! Is this all too much for you? Are you looking for a fucking way out? Because, if you are, if you really want to bail on this after all that we have been through, you don't have to do it this way. All you have to say is, 'Jesse, I want to break up.' See? It's not that hard."_

"_Are you kidding me!? I never said that I wanted to break up with you, Jesse! I was just trying to tell you what the email said!"_

"_It is bad enough that you lied to me about all of this, then lied to me again about how long it was gonna last, and now you are going to seriously sit there and say that you didn't know that this is where it was going to lead to? I'm sorry, but I can't fucking believe that! Quit lying to yourself and to me! You want this to be done, then say the words, Beca. Grow up and say it!"_

"_You are being such a dick right now. I can't even look at you." She turned her back on him, wrapping the sheet tighter around herself. She felt exposed, sitting there in her bed with nothing but her sheets covering her body. He barely pulled boxers on before he started screaming at her, so he was barely covered, and it was distracting, because she loved his body._

"_Well, you're being a bitch!" She glared at him. "Actually, you kind of remind me of your dad, bailing when the going gets tough." She froze when he said that, because what the fuck? He knew that her dad leaving her screwed her up. He knew that her parents had a messy divorce, that her father didn't put much effort into being involved in her life, especially not after he started dating Sheila (and eventually marrying her). What he didn't know was that her mom had cheated, had caused their problems, had ruined their family. What he didn't know was that she had caught her mom and her boyfriend when she came home from school one day. What he didn't know was that her mom made her promise not to tell her dad. What he didn't know was the guilt that she had built up inside of her, the anger, the heartbreak. Her trust in her mother—in love—was destroyed when she realized that her mom was cheating on her dad. Her trust in her father—in men, and really all people in general, to be reliable, there for her—was destroyed the moment that he walked out the door on her, telling her that he hated her for keeping that secret from him, telling her that he hated her for picking her mother over him. It was the worst moment of her life, and here he was, throwing the abbreviated version that she had shared with him back into her face._

"_Fuck you, Jesse." Her voice was deadly quiet when she finally snapped back to reality. "Get out."_

"_There we go. Here we go. Pushing me away again." He rolled his eyes, pulling on his jeans. He yanked the shirt over his head, shaking his head at her. "Typical Beca."_

"_Get out!" She yelled. She wanted him gone. She hated him in that moment. She didn't want to see him again—speak to him again. She wanted to tell him that it was over, but the words were trapped in her chest. Instead she said, "I never want to speak to you again!"_

"_Gladly!" He said, grabbing his stuff in his hands and walking out the door, barefoot. He slammed it shut behind him, and she collapsed back into her pillows, sobbing, curling up into a ball. For the first time in the last eleven months, she felt like her heart was breaking. _

* * *

"I shouldn't've…I'm…I'm so sorry that I said all that to you. I didn't mean it. You're nothing like your dad, Beca." Jesse said slowly, bringing her back to reality. Beca jerked her hand away from him, pressing her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't look at him; she couldn't. Her heart was simultaneously pounding against her chest and breaking all over again. Seriously, how many times could a person's heart break? It broke when she was a kid, when she saw her mom cheating and was forced to lie about it; it broke when her dad found out and her mom turned on her, screaming about how she couldn't believe that Beca had told on her. It broke when her dad walked out on them, telling her that he hated her; it broke when her mom blamed her, treated her like dog shit on her shoe after her dad was gone; it broke when her dad found Sheila and lost all interest in her aside from sending her the occasional card or the occasional berating phone call about her grades. It broke when her mom promptly kicked her out of her house when she graduated from high school, saying she was an adult now; it broke when her dad forced her to go to Barden when all she wanted was to go to LA and start her life there. It broke when she pushed Jesse away one time too many and he told her he was done; it broke when the Bellas turned their back on her after the Semi-Finals debacle. It broke the night that they had their fight, when he said those terrible things to her, and now it was breaking again, because she was so sure that it was over.

Beca was so sure that Jesse was it for her. Sure, they were barely nineteen and twenty years old, and they hadn't even been together for a year, but he was so different. He was the first person she had ever loved, felt safe with. She wanted him, and she didn't want anyone other him. She didn't want to give him up. She never went into anything with him with the intention of breaking his heart, and she certainly never intended to let him in this far, because she was so scared of falling for him and getting hurt, getting her heart broken again. She should have known that it was coming.

"I wish that I could take it all back." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "You mean so much to me, and I was so excited for you when you said that you got that internship in LA, Beca." He started. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was twisting his fingers in his lap. "You told me that it was gonna be three weeks, a month tops. I…it was selfish of me to feel bummed, because we made plans that we were going to spend the entire summer together. This was something great for you. This is your whole future, you know? I was happy for you, really, but I was also bummed, because it meant that you weren't going to be with me."

"Then, the next conversation we had about it, I told you that it was actually for the entire summer."

"Yeah. It pretty much destroyed me. You applied for this internship, knowing that it was going to last that long. You applied for it even though you and I were going to spend the entire summer together, working as summer resident assistants in the dorms for those summer camps that they hold her, spending our days and nights together. We were gonna be together, and you changed your mind. It was like you didn't care about me enough. You didn't want to be with me, and you were leaving me. When you told me that they told you that if things worked out well this summer, they would offer you another year-long paid internship, I think I stopped breathing for a moment. We had just…fuck, it was different that time, Beca! You had to feel it! You had to know that it wasn't just sex, that it was more than that. I was so sure that you were gonna tell me that you love me when you said that you needed to tell me something, and I thought, this is it. This is the moment that changes our lives together; this was the moment where I tell you that I love you and that I see us growing old together."

She closed her eyes, because she did plan on telling him those things. She did plan on saying exactly that—even if she were going to be in LA for an entire year and three months, she loved him, and she knew that he was it for her. She was going to tell him that she wasn't scared that things weren't going to work out for them, because she knew that she wanted him, and she was going to do everything in her power to stay with him. She was going to tell him that this was the moment when they could prove to each other that they were meant to be, that they would work hard each and every day to stay together; it was the moment when they could become a better couple, a stronger couple, despite their impending distance between them. But, he had shut down the second she finished the sentence about what the email from her new employers said; he had climbed out of the bed, barely pulling on his boxers before he started screaming at her.

"That isn't exactly the way that I planned on telling you that I love you for the first time, but there you have it." Jesse stood up, and Beca's head flew up, watching him with wide eyes as he began gathering up his stuff and shoving as much of it into his schoolbag.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting my stuff. I'm gonna go, now. Obviously, I fucked everything up, and I just…it feels like my heart has gone through the blender, and I just need to work on getting over you, because you are phenomenal at what you do with music; you are going to blow them all away in LA, and they are going to hire you for the next year, and then probably permanently when that is up." She was shaking. She watched as he grabbed all of his stuff and began to make his way towards her door. She jumped out of the bed, rushing to him, laying a hand on his arm.

"Wait…please…" He turned around to face her. This was it. This is the moment that she told him the truth, to tell him that she loved him, that she didn't want to lose him. It took not speaking to him for a week, to wake up without him in her arms, to go an entire day without seeing him or kissing him or hugging him, to go to sleep at night without him beside her to know that she needed him in her life. She would give up the internship if it meant that she would still have him in her life; the internship didn't matter. _He_ mattered.

"Do you know what the first thing that I think when I wake up in the morning?" She whispered, and he shook his head slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I think of you; I think about how great my day is going to be, because I get to have you in it. I think about how beautiful you are when you are sleeping; I think about how lucky I am that you put up with all of my bullshit. I think about how much I…I _love_ you; I think about how much of a chicken I am, because I was so scared to say those words to you." She saw him tense, and she could tell he was holding himself back, and she held up a hand, indicating that she needed to finish. "When I wake up and you're already awake, I actually feel breathless, because I'm so scared that you have left me. Then, you walk through the door, the smile on your face, a towel wrapped around your waist or your toothbrush in hand, or hell a DVD case in your hand, and it blows my mind when I think of how lucky I am, because you chose me." She wiped at the tear that slipped down his cheek. She knew that she was crying, too.

"Beca," he started, but she shook her head. She wasn't done.

"No matter how awesome it is to wake up beside you, my favorite time of day is when I go to sleep at night, because you wrap your arms around me, and I can hear your heart beating through your chest and your breath against my cheek and neck. I need you—I _want_ you the most then, because I feel safe and warm and loved and special and good. Nights are always the worst for me, and having you there, it makes me feel safe, like I can make it through anything." She wiped at her cheeks, taking a shuddering breath. "The last week was awful. I woke up every morning, looking for you, dying a little inside because you weren't there and I was so scared that you were _never_ going to be there again. I would spend the entire day miserable, wishing that I could just see you once, touch you once, because then I would be okay. The nights were the worst though, because all of my old pain, emptiness, insecurity would come back; you weren't there to hold me, protect me, make me feel like I matter." She wiped her cheeks again. "I never knew what I had until you left, though. I never knew how important you were to me, not really, until you weren't there. I will give it all up if it means that I have you. I don't need any of it—LA, the internship, none of it—if it means that you are in my life. I love you."

"Beca, I love you so much," Jesse said, pulling her into his arms, kissing her forcefully. Beca felt like her world was finally right for the first time in a week, because he was _there_. She kissed him back just as hard. When air became a problem, he broke the kiss, instead pressing his lips to every inch of her face and neck. He pulled back, staring into her eyes. "You can't give up the internship, though. I don't want you to resent me for it. You deserve this chance, and I would never forgive myself if I didn't let you go."

"I won't resent you, Jess. I swear to you. It means nothing to me if I don't have you with me. I don't know if I can handle being without you for one night let alone for an entire summer and possibly for another year after that. I can't do it. I _won't_ do it."

"Look, Beca, you need to do this. You need to know that you can do it; you can meet all your goals, achieve your dream. You have wanted LA for so long, and now you have the chance to have it."

"I have a new dream. You're my dream." She whispered, kissing him again, not wanting to let him go ever again. She didn't want this to mean they were done; she was so scared that even though they both finally admitted that they loved each other that they would still end, because she was going to leave. Well, she wasn't going to let that happen. She wouldn't leave if it meant that it would keep him in her life. He kissed her back, burying his hands into her hair.

After a few moments, he broke the kiss again. "Seriously, you're going, Beca. You're going to LA." She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the official break up.

"Does that mean that you still want to break up? I mean, you did just say that you need to work on getting over me."

"Hell no! Now that I know that you love me and you want me as much as I want you, I'm never letting you go."

"I don't know if I can be without you." She whispered, burying her face into his chest, hugging him tightly. "You're my home."

"You're mine." He kissed the top of her head. "We're beginning again, right here, right now. This is when we are starting over as the new and improved Beca and Jesse. We are going to be stronger couple right now, from this moment on. You and I are meant to be together, so we will be. Remember, I told you that it was inevitable that we were going to have aca-children together?" She rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to the skin just above the collar of his shirt.

"Yes, I remember, weirdo." She took a deep breath. They could do this. They could be a part, right? They _could_, but that didn't mean that she wanted to. She glanced up at him, seeing him staring down at her. She decided that she needed him with her. "Come with me." She said, and he furrowed his brow.

"What?"

"Come with me. When I told my dad about the internship, he agreed to help me with rent and bills and all that for the summer, after I told him about the possibility that it could lead to a paid internship next year, he wasn't that happy about it. I promised him that I would take a couple of online classes from Barden during the school year to make sure that I don't get that far behind, you know? So, you should come with me. Live with me, in LA."

"You can't be…wow! You're really serious?" She nodded her head.

"Dixie Chicks serious." She told him, making him smile, because after they got together, she had told him about the oath, Mary Elise's being thrown out of the club, and Aubrey's statement that she was Dixie Chicks serious when Beca questioned her about it. "Come to LA with me. I'm sure we could find you your own internship or something. We can get started right now." She grabbed his hand, starting to pull him towards her computer.

"Beca…"

"No, you're not allowed to say anything unless it is yes. I refuse to let you say anything other than yes." She sat down in her desk chair, immediately opening up the internet and began searching for internships. She groaned when there were quite a few in New York City. That wasn't what she was hoping for.

"Beca, stop for a second."

"No! You're coming with me." She said, not looking at him. He sighed, laying his hands on her shoulders and turning the chair around to face him.

"You gotta stop for a second. I get that you want me to go with you, and if we can find something and I get it, then I won't be opposed to going with you for the summer, but I don't know if I can take a school year off. I doubt that I could move out their permanently. My parents definitely wouldn't be okay with it." She frowned. "But, even if I don't find an internship, I will come visit you as often as I can, okay? I love you, and I promise you that you're it for me. I'm gonna do everything in my power to make it through however long it takes to get us back together again, okay?" She nodded her head. "Now, can I please tear off all of your clothes and proceed to show you just how much I have _missed_ you this week? Oh, and then do it all over again to show you how much I love you?" She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him pull her flush against his body.

"I guess that can be arranged, but when we're done, we're searching for an internship for you, okay?"

"Definitely." He said against her lips as he backed them towards her bed. She smiled into the kiss. No matter what happened, she was so sure that they were going to be okay. She loved him, and he loved her, and that was all that mattered.


	18. Breakeven (Part 1 of 2)

**Breakeven**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

****Heads up, Lover-Bug****

**Part 1 of 2**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Breakeven **_**by The Script**

**Author's Note: So, this one-shot is told from Beca's point of view. The next one-shot is a companion piece, and it is told from Jesse's point of view. The first italics section is a flashback, and then the second is a daydream Beca has that is ALL IN HER HEAD! I just want to make that clear so that you all don't kill me in my sleep or something.**

**I shouldn't be writing this. I have a major final exam due tomorrow afternoon at 4:30, so I have approximately 24 hours to complete it. (It's supposed to be about 20 pages long and a treatment plan for two case studies on two different families. Yeah…I need lots of reviews to get me through this, thanks!) **

* * *

Regret. Six letters, two of them repeating in a pattern: r-e-g-r-e-t. It can be a _verb_, which is defined as: feeling sorry for something; to mourn for someone or something. Synonyms for the _verb_ regret include: to be sorry, apologetic, repentant, disappointed, remorseful, and/or unhappy; to lament; to mourn; to express grief; to bemoan. It can be a _noun_, which is defined as: feelings of sadness, disappointment, sorrow, guilt, and/or longing. The synonyms for the _noun_ regret include: feelings of remorse, guilt, repentance, compunction, shame, sorrow, unhappiness, grief, distress, and/or disappointment. Regret. Six jumbled letters shoved together to symbolize a feeling so dark, so intense, so painful (mentally, emotionally, _physically_) that it leaves your breathless; like, you physically cannot breathe. Your body is alive, your mind is alive, but it is some kind of sick torture that you brought upon yourself—you did this to yourself. Your heart is mush in your hands; you try your best to push its pulp back together, to make it whole again, but you never get all of the pieces back together. The more you squeeze it, trying to force it back into a shape it will never get back to, the less of it there is; pieces of it seem to disappear, until you realize that once you gave it away originally, you never really got all of it back in the first place. You tore it from the other person's hand, and you left some of it behind, and the more you try to mold it into something that it was, that it will never be again, the more you realize that more of it disappears from your hands, going back to that person, even though you try to hold onto all of it. You try your best, but you can't. Because, when your heart breaks, it doesn't break evenly.

* * *

Beca Mitchell sits on the edge of her bed, her hands shaking in her lap, tears streaming down her face. She feels lost, empty, barely alive, but she is alive, because no matter how much it physically pains her, a heart that is broken doesn't actually kill you. You might feel like it does, or wish that it did, but it doesn't kill you. Is it her fault? Is it his fault? Is it both? She closes her eyes, clasping her hands together, interlacing the fingers together. She swallows, taking one shuddering breath before she does something she hasn't done since she was twelve: she prays to a God that she stopped believing in the second her father walked out on her and her mother. "God," she whispers, and it jars her to hear how weak, vulnerable, _broken_ her voice sounds. "God, please." She squeezes her eyes shut even tighter, squeezes her hands together so tightly that it is surely cutting of the circulation to her fingers. "God, please." She doesn't know what she is begging him for. Does she want him back? Does she want him gone from her life for good? "God, please. Please let me be okay." She settles for that, because that is all she can hope for now.

Beca opens her eyes, taking in her surroundings. There is evidence of their life together all around her, in their (_her_) tiny little bedroom in their (_her_) tiny one-bedroom apartment in L.A. Pieces of his clothing, pictures of them together, stacked DVDs, his watch, his cologne, and his toothbrush on their (_her_) sink. She keeps forgetting that it is hers now, not theirs. It was her choice in the end; she is the one who told him to leave. She told him that she wanted him gone, so that she could have all of the time in the world to do what she wanted, to throw herself into her career. She remembers the fight they had, the fight that left them broken for good.

* * *

"_You're a liar." Beca whimpered. "You're a liar and a _cheater_. I never expected that you would cheat, Jesse, but you did. You broke us."_

"_I made a mistake, Beca," he said, sitting down on the bed, his head in his hands. "I was desperate, alone. I felt like I was losing you to your work. I've seen more of this crappy apartment, of our friends, of our neighbors, and of _strangers_ on the street than I have seen of my own girlfriend over the last three months, and we fucking live together, Beca. You threw yourself into your job, and you left me behind."_

"_So, it's my fault? It's my fault that you went to a bar and met some perky co-ed on spring break to 'Cali' with her girlfriends from her sorority? I'm guessing she was blond, pretty, and busty, with legs that go on for days. Something that you're not used to having; something better, no doubt." She turned her back on him, afraid to show him just how painful it was to hear him say that she wasn't good enough. She always felt like she wasn't good enough for him._

"_Beca, it wasn't like that." _

"_Oh, it wasn't? What was it like then?" _

"_It was…it was Kelly." Her heart obliterated then. It was Kelly, their supposed friend and neighbor. She was blond, she was pretty, she was young; she was _perfect_. Beca had felt a pang of discomfort when she had first met Kelly, especially when she saw how flirty the girl from 23A was with her boyfriend, but Jesse had assured her that she was the love of her life, that he loved his surly girlfriend of three years and one month—the girl with tattoos, heavy eye makeup, and a sarcastic, acid tongue. She thought that they were okay. "I hadn't seen you in days—you were pretty much living at the studio, and I was lonely. She invited me over for dinner, and I got drunk. I was so lonely, and she was there."_

"_You're blaming me? You're blaming the fact that I have thrown myself into my first real job as a producer? I was so excited that this was my chance to prove myself, and I wanted it to be right, to be perfect. You ruined this for me. You slept with Kelly, and you think that I'm going to be okay with it?"_

"_You never have time for me anymore, Beca. You're always busy with your co-workers, with the artist you're working with, with your boss—with your music. You're never around, and I was lonely. I made a mistake, and I felt like an idiot when I realized what I did. Please tell me you can forgive me. I'm not blaming you for the mistake I made; I'm just trying to help you understand."_

"_I don't understand, Jesse. I don't understand, because you promised me forever; you made me believe that this was it—that we were it. This crappy apartment, as you called it-this was my home—with you. It was the first real home that I have had in almost thirteen years. Since I don't have time for you, maybe you should leave. I'm too busy to be your girlfriend. You wanted out, so now you have out." _

"_Beca," Jesse pleaded, standing up and laying a hand on Beca's shoulder. She tore her body from his touch, jerking away from him as if his hand burned her. "Please don't do this."_

"_Get out, Jesse."_

* * *

Jesse gets his freedom; he gets his chance to be with someone who loves him the way that he thinks he deserves. He will find someone who will give up her job, her dreams, everything for him. Maybe Kelly will be that person for him. Beca gets what she had wanted all along; she never wanted to fall in love in the first place. She had always been taught that love doesn't exist, but she let herself believe that it could after she met Jesse. She knows now that love only ends with heartache. She now has all of the time in the world to devote to her music, to producing. She wasted four years on someone, and now she has to make up that she lost.

Beca stands up and walks over to where she had thrown her phone. She picks it up and scrolls through her contacts, looking for someone to talk to. Everyone is so far away; no one lives in LA with them, just their friends that they made here—friends in their building, friends through their jobs. She needs someone to hold her, but she doesn't have anyone here. She takes a shuddering breath, her thumb hovering over his name momentarily Jesse with the little heart emoticon made from the less than symbol and the number three. She forces herself to go past it, clicking on Jessica's name instead, the next name on the list of her contacts. She presses the phone to her ear, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, clutching her knees with her free arm.

"Hello? Beca? What's wrong? It's two in the morning here." She curses to herself silently when she hears Jessica's tired, strained voice. She hears the mumbles of Jessica's boyfriend, Devon, asking her who is on the phone and what is going on. She has forgotten that there was a time difference—it is two in the morning in Atlanta, but only eleven at night in L.A.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I woke you and Dev. Go back to sleep." She says after a moment, trying to keep the anguish from her voice. She sniffles, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her free hand.

"Beca, what's wrong? Are you crying?"

"No," she whimpers into the phone, and then a sob erupts from her lips, one that is like a geyser—she couldn't hold it back if she tried any harder.

"Oh, Beca, what happened?"

"J—Je—Jesus! Jesse…he…we…he's gone." She finally gets out, trying to breathe, but it doesn't work. "I—I threw him out. He ch-ch-cheated on me." She cries into the phone, hearing Jessica mutter her apologies to Devon as she climbs out of the bed and leaves her room.

"Oh, Beca, honey…" Her blond friend says to her after a few moments. "I wish that I was there; I'm so sorry. I can't believe he did that to you."

Beca sniffs, clamping her eyes shut, hating that she was showing weakness; of all of the Bellas that she could have called, she is glad that she chose Jessica. The blond is sweet, warm, and she also keeps Beca's saddest moments to herself; Jessica is the only one who had ever seen Beca cry in the five years that they had known each other. Jessica asks her what happened, so Beca takes a deep breath, trying to calm down enough to explain what happened. "He says that I was too busy for him. After eight months of essentially being the other producers' bitch, I was given the chance to produce. He says that he has hardly seen me over the last three months, and he felt lonely." She pauses, taking another deep breath. "He slept with our neighbor, and he says that he feels stupid for doing it, that it was a mistake, but how could he do that to me, Jessica? He knows that my dad cheated on my mom. He knows that my dad left me and my mom for the she-beast that is Sheila."

"I hate him for doing this to you, Beca." They talk for awhile longer, but Beca hears Jessica try to suppress her fourth yawn in the half hour that they were in the phone. She tells Jessica to go back to bed, saying that she is exhausted and just wants to try and get some sleep. Jessica half-heartedly insists that they keep talking, and Beca appreciates the gesture, but she isn't a massive bitch, so she lets Jess go. She hangs up the phone and walks over to her bed, climbing into it, grabbing one of her pillows to clutch against her chest. She imagines Jesse lying down, getting a good night's sleep, probably with Kelly by his side. Kelly is the perfect woman—a kindergarten teacher, a woman who volunteers at nursing homes and with children on the cancer ward in the hospital. Kelly will give up working to pop out a bunch of babies for him, something that Beca has never wanted in her life. His best days are to come, with a woman that is going to put him first—in the way that he imagines…deserves.

* * *

"_Thank God, I'm free of her." Jesse laughs, falling back on to the bed with a massive grin on his face. A pretty blond falls onto the bed beside him, curling up against his side._

"_I'm so glad that we can finally be together. I don't know why you insisted on staying with her over the last few months." Kelly pouts, resting her chin on his chest._

"_I couldn't exactly dump her until I had a better excuse. Everyone would look at me like I was the bad guy if I dumped her the second I met you. No, I needed the excuse that she threw herself into work, leaving me behind. It's her fault this way."_

"_I love you, Jesse." Kelly smiles at him. "Do you love me?"_

"_Hell, yes." He leans down, sliding his hands into her hair, kissing her forcefully._

"_Do you love me more than her?" She asks him breathlessly when she pulls out of the kiss._

"_So much more than I have ever loved her. I don't even think I ever did love her. I wasted four years on her. I was a real asshole, huh? But, being with her meant that I came out here and I met you." He grins at her, winking. "For that I'm grateful." She sits back, kneeling on the bed beside him._

"_Do you want me?" She whispers, pulling her shirt over her head. _

"_Fuck, yeah." He slides his hands up her stomach, cupping the blond's perfect, full breasts over her white bra. "You're way better in bed that Beca ever was, baby."_

"_Mmm, baby. I like the sound of that." Kelly says, reaching behind her to undo her bra. "I would love it if we could start making babies. When can we get married, Jesse? When can we start our life together?"_

"_Right now, Kelly. You're the only one that I want." Jesse says, sitting up and kissing her._

* * *

Beca can see them having sex in her head, settling down for the night, falling asleep in each other's arms. She sees him with a huge smile on his face, looking happier than he's been in so long. He is happy now, with a girl like Kelly, and she is all alone in the apartment that is filled with memories of their life together, haunted, alone, broken. Her heart is severed into thousands of pieces, ground to dust, ruined. It is her fault for ever letting him in; it is her fault for letting him break down her walls, and now she is left destroyed.

She clutches the pillow tighter to her chest and sobs. She hates how sick she feels over this. She wishes that she could just stop feeling. She wishes she could turn off her head and her heart, to get over it. Ten minutes later, she hears her phone buzz on the floor where she left it. She doesn't want to answer it, but it keeps ringing, so she stands up to see who it is. She sighs when she reads Ashley's name. She goes to answer the call, but she was too late, and seconds later it lights up with a new name: Lilly. It appears that Jessica sent out a mass text or call or something that told all of her friends that she was no longer living with/in a relationship with Jesse. She sighs, answering Lilly's call, who tells her that she knows a guy who is a part of the Chinese mob who could take care of him. It makes her smile for a moment, but it doesn't last long before her heart is shattering again. She sobs into the phone, not forming words, just loud, choking sounds. She thinks she hears Lilly mutter something and click a few buttons. Suddenly, she hears the sounds of _all_ of her friends from all over the world (Amy is back in Australia, Aubrey is in London, Lilly is in China, and Stacie's slutting her way through European royalty, while the rest are currently residing random cities across America). They all say that they hate him, and they could kill him. They all ask her what they could do. They all ask if they want her to fly in and spend a few days in LA with her. They say all of the _right_ things, but none of it makes her feel any better, because it doesn't change the fact that Jesse broke her heart.

"I just…I just…what the fuck?" Beca says, wiping at her cheeks. "What am I supposed to do now? I felt like I was happy for the first time in so many years. I was happy, and I was actually a good person, because of him. I…he brought out the best in me, you know? He made me want to succeed in this; he made me want to show my dad that I'm actually doing something worthwhile, you know? He believed in me, and I felt like I could do this. What am I supposed to do now? I lost the best part of me when he cheated and walked out the door. I'm a mess now. I'm falling apart, and he's fine with it. He's just upset that this ruins his perfect image, but he made sure to make it my fault before I kicked him out of the apartment."

"God! This is why I hate the Trebles." Aubrey mutters, and Beca could hear the background of a busy London coffee shop around the older blond's words. "They don't respect us."

"Aubrey! That's not helping!" Chloe snaps, making Beca run a hand through her hair.

"No, she's right, Chloe. I should've listened to her all those years ago. I should've listened to myself all those years ago. I knew this would happen. He asked me after spring break, before the Finals competition, why I always pushed people away, and this is why. I push people away, because you can't ever really trust them. Not with your heart anyway." She sniffs, wiping under her nose with the back of her hand. She grimaces, wiping the snot and tears onto her shirt.

"Oh, honey." Stacie says. "That's not true. You can trust people. You can trust us. We have your heart, and we would never break it. We all love you, and we will always be there for you."

"Stacie's right, Shawshank. I love your little flat ass, and if I were there right now, we would be hanging out with the best boys in town: good ole Captain M, Jack, Ezra, Ben, and Jerry. They're the only guys you need right now. Plus, a few days of eating nothing but ice cream and drinking nothing but booze, you're flat ass would be as big as your fat heart."

"No, she would be dead before she could make it through a day of that." Aubrey tells them. "We would go to a spa—manis, pedis, facials, massages, mud baths, aromatherapy, candles, meditation, relaxation. That's exactly what she needs. I can be there in three days, Beca. I get started on getting reservations at the best spa in LA. Oh, we should really go to Hawaii!"

"Well, if we are going to Hawaii, then we all totes need to get a bikini wax. My Brazilian is starting to grow out, and that shit's not cool. I don't get the French. They, like, _like_ hair down there." Stacie whispers into the phone. Beca hiccups on her tears as she chuckles slightly at the ridiculousness of her friends.

"Guys, you all have your own jobs and lives. You can't all drop everything just because I had a breakup. Besides, I'm finishing up on producing this album with a couple of people until next week."

"Beca, you would be there for us the second you could if something bad happened to us." Ashley says quietly.

"Guys, I can't take off until next Friday." Cynthia Rose tells them. "Does that work for all of you? I could take a week, and we all could meet up in Hawaii."

"Yeah, that would be better for me, too." Chloe says. "I can get people to cover for me then. Let's all shoot for next Friday and then we all can get home by the following Sunday morning? Nine days of relaxation and pampering and boy-slamming?"

"Mmm, I'm all for slamming a few boys in Hawaii." Stacie hums into the phone.

"Slut." Amy coughs into the phone.

"Um, Stacie, what Chloe meant was hating on guys and not…um…having sex with them." Aubrey says, making the rest of the m chuckle.

"Oh." Stacie says. "Whatever. I can totally do both."

"See, Beca," Jessica says, yawning slightly into the phone. "Bad things happen for a reason. It sucks that you're hurting and that Jesse was a total douche bag, but this bad thing is bringing us all together to show each other just how much we love each other and are there for one another. I love all of you girls."

"And, you could totally use this breakup to write a bunch of killer songs. You wanna be the next David Guetta, and here's your chance! Write some kick ass songs, and once you get some notoriety out of this album you're working on, everyone would jump at the chance to do a song with you." Ashley tells her.

"Guys," Beca begins, but they all cut her off, going on and on about how Ashley is right and how fantastic this is going to be for her career. Plus, Lilly throws it in that he can feel guilty and like shit every time he hears one of her fantastic songs about his cheating ass on the radio. Stacie tells her that this is her chance to have a lot of breakup sex with hot guys—something that she hasn't been able to do in the four years since she and Jesse had gotten together.

They are all trying to make her feel better, but it isn't fixing anything. She appreciates that they all want to come and see her. She appreciates that they all want to show her that they are there for her in her time of need, but it doesn't mean that her heart hasn't been bashed into a bloody, pulpy mess. It doesn't mean that she isn't bleeding to death internally. It doesn't mean that she isn't dying over the fact that Jesse has moved on to some perfect, little blond who is like the perfect woman, and she is left grieving over a life she never wanted until she was with him. She is a mess, and she hates herself. She hates herself for still loving him and wishing that he never destroyed her the way that he did. He broke her, and now she has nothing left. She's lost the love of her life, and she doesn't think she could ever recover. She doesn't want to say that—doesn't want to admit it to herself or her friends. She is afraid that she was going to be a shell of the person she once was.

Maybe he is right, though? Maybe it _is_ her fault. She should have made time for him. She has been impossibly busy lately. She did spend a lot of late nights and early mornings at the studio and in the office and at dinners and lunches and all of that crap—rubbing elbows and producing the songs. She has been crazy busy all of the time. She would come home late at night and then want nothing to do with him. She doesn't remember the last time that she and Jesse had sex, and she _loves_ sex. She especially loves sex with him. The last few months, all she would do in the apartment—when she was there—was sleep. Maybe he is right—it is her fault. He was missing her and feeling lonely, because she was too busy for him. She is the reason why he cheated. He was lonely, so he cheated. Kelly was there. She was around when his own girlfriend put her work ahead of him. She deserves to lose him, because she let her work supersede her relationship with him. She let him go. It was her fault.

Now, Jesse has Kelly's heart. He has this new perfect girlfriend, but he still has Beca's heart, too. Beca still loves him. She still wants him. She hates herself for it; she hates how much pain she is in over losing him. He walked out the door earlier tonight with his suitcases, and he left behind all the blame of this mess on her. She doesn't know what to do. She can't make any sense of it. Things would have been so different if she didn't accept the job to produce the album. She should have known that it would mean less time for him. She should have thought about the consequences that came from being the producer for an artist who just got off a tour and was now rushing to get another album finished for an early tour within six months. She should have known that there would have been long hours away from him. She should have known that she would have to choose between her job and Jesse, and she chose wrong. She had pushed him into this.

Beca takes a deep breath, barely listening to her friends blather on and on about how this is for the best and how they are going to get him out of her head once they all got to Hawaii. They are talking about all pooling their money for a big suite at some hotel and how she doesn't have to pay a dime—that they are going to take care of her. "Thanks, guys, really." She pauses, wiping at her cheeks. "I'm just gonna go to sleep, okay? Have a good night?"

"Beca, we love you!" They all chorus together. They all go on and on about how they are there if she needs to talk, no matter what time of day. They all tell her that they can't wait for the trip. Lilly even states that she can set up the hit at any time. All Beca has to do is text the number and letter combination of A12S02JDG to her, and it will be taken care of. They all are silent for a few moments, and then Amy nervously laughs and says that Lilly is such a jokester, but they all can tell she was scared shitless that Lilly was being serious. (Sometimes they're scared of Lilly, because that girl is fucking creepy.)

"I'm defriending Jesse from Facebook and blocking him on Twitter and Instagram like as soon as I hang up the phone." Aubrey says (read: snarls).

"Me, too!" Beca rolls her eyes at all of the girls as they all scream it into the phone.

"Bye, guys." She hangs up the phone and stands up. She walks over to her bed again and climbs into it, hugging the pillow to her chest once more. She closes her eyes, willing the sleep to come. She wonders if her heart would ever go back together again. She wonders if she could ever be happy again.

Beca Mitchell has a lot of regrets. She regrets letting herself get so busy that she pushed her boyfriend into the arms of another woman. But, most of all, she regrets letting herself fall in love with a movie-loving nerd who composing music. She should have known it when he described himself all of those years ago as a person who wanted to compose music that moved people to tears and all of that that he would wind up moving her to tears—he would wind up breaking her heart. She always knew that you couldn't trust people, and her biggest regret was letting her guard down for Jesse four years (oh, who is she kidding? He had her heart five years ago from the moment she first laid her eyes on him when he was singing to her from the backseat of his parents' car). She regrets that she let herself fall in love with him. She regrets forgetting for a second that there is no such thing as love. She regrets so much. Now, she has to pick up the messy, bloody pieces of her heart and try her best to reassemble them into something that looks like her old heart. She needs to figure out a way to learn to live without him, with a broken heart.


	19. Nothing (Part 2 of 2)

**Nothing**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Part 2 of 2**

****Heads up, Lover-Bug****

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Song Recommendation: **_**Nothing **_**by The Script**

**Author's Note: Alright, this one is Jesse's reaction to the breakup. The email Jesse sends is in italics. I hope that you like it. Sorry that I made Jesse a cheater for these two, but this is just one of the reasons why people might breakup. Review at the end, please?**

* * *

Mistake. Seven random letters combined together to represent one's idiocy. As a noun, it is defined as an incorrect action or decision, an error, or a misunderstanding. As a transitive verb, a mistake is defined as misunderstanding something, to identify something or someone incorrectly, and choosing something incorrectly. You do something by mistake, accidentally, not intending or wishing to do something, but you do it anyway. Generally, mistakes lead to hurting someone or something. It is one thing to make a mistake that hurts you, that messes things up for you, but it is a completely different thing (read: it is _worse_) to make a mistake that hurts someone else, especially someone you claim to love. Those mistakes are unforgivable; they are worse, because you are destroying something so beautiful and special, something you vowed never to destroy.

* * *

It has been three weeks. Three long, horrible, awful weeks, if you ask Jesse; he feels like he's dying slowly, and part of him wishes that he could just die. Surely, he would be better off that way, right? It would be better than enduring the soul-sucking pain of losing someone he loves. He's heartbroken, and he's guilty; he feels so much shame and hatred for himself for doing what he did. Why did he do it? Why did he have to destroy them? Why did he have to hurt Beca so terribly? Surely, there is something wrong with him. He just wants to give up, quit on life, because he's heartbroken and depressed and angry as fuck, because it was entirely his fault. His bosses are starting to notice that something's up with him, because he's been throwing himself into his work, spending long hours in the studio composing, avoiding going home to the tiny motel room that he's been staying in for the last few weeks; this wouldn't be a problem, but everything he has been composing over the last few weeks have been depressing as shit, and that's not exactly what they want for a happy, feel-good family movie.

Jesse opens the door to the motel room and drops his keys and the Chinese takeout bag onto the table that sits by the door. He pulls his messenger bag off his shoulder and drops that onto the table, as well. He can't exactly play his piano in this little motel room, so he's stuck spending an obscene amount of money each month to store pretty much all of his belongings from the tiny apartment that he and Beca had shared, including his piano; that is his excuse for spending so much time at the studio—he can't exactly compose on his own anymore. He keeps buying weekly stays at the motel, hoping that eventually she will respond to one of his emails, text messages, and phone calls. Hell, if he thought it would work in his favor, he would send her letters in the mail or a fucking carrier pigeon or smoke signals or something to get her attention. Nothing seemed to work though. He sighs, unbuttoning his white dress shirt, pulling it off and laying it over the top of the chair that goes with the table. He's running out of clean clothes; he makes a mental note to get together a bag of stuff to wash at the Laundromat that is down the street. He removes his belt and unbuttons his dress pants after he kicks off his shoes; he pulls the pants off and tosses them over the chair, walking over to the bed with the bag of food in his hand, dressed only in his black boxers, a white wife beater, and his black dress socks. He's sure that he looks like some businessman looking for a quickie with a prostitute before heading home to the wife.

Jesse drops onto the bed and pulls his laptop towards him from where it is lying on one side of the bed. He opens it up and types his password (BeautifulBeca) when it prompts him to. He digs through the bag as the laptop loads, pulling out the container of food. He pops the lid open and grabs the plastic box of forks from the end table beside his bed to get one to eat his dinner with. As he chews a bite of chicken and rice, he opens the internet. He's paying out the ass for internet service, which pisses him off. He just wants to go home. One of his three homepages is Facebook, so he immediately switches to that tab. It's like some kind of sick torture for himself, but he's looking for any information on Beca. The day after their fight and Beca kicked him from the apartment, Jesse saw that she and all of the Bellas, except Stacie, defriended him on Facebook. It about killed him, because those girls are (_were_) his friends, too; plus, it really showed him how upset Beca was with him. His eyes scan the newsfeed from that day, looking for any information on her. All of the Trebles she is friendly with are still her friends on Facebook, but it appears that none of them have been chatting with her recently, nor had she commented on their statuses or pages. In fact, she hasn't posted any statuses or comments in the last two days, which is beyond weird for her, because normally Stacie posts about ten statuses a day. He knows why Stacie decided to stay friends with him on Facebook. It is so she could post statuses or pictures that relate to Beca in order to rub it in his face what he's lost. He doesn't need her to do that in order to know that he royally fucked up; he still studies her page over and over, though, trying to absorb anything about Beca that he can get. He should defriend Stacie; if he was smart, he would. He just can't bring himself to do it. It's like a punch to the gut, groin, and heart every time he sees a picture of Beca or sees that Stacie tagged her in a status.

Jesse bites his lip as he navigates to Stacie's page, looking at her recent album from the former Bellas' trip to Hawaii. He ignores the pang in his stomach as he studies the pictures. In the first few pictures, she looked so sad, and the captions all related to how this trip was going to be great for getting over a bad breakup. As time went on, she began to look happier in the pictures, and the captions implied the same. There was a running commentary in the comments section for each photo of one of Stacie's many suitors (aka former and current fuck-buddies) about how much they wanted to do every girl in the picture. Fat Amy made a couple of inappropriate comments about midgets, dingoes, and kangaroo pouches that made him blush, and he was a grown man. As he studies the pictures, he wishes that he could have been there with her—that they were on a vacation together, soaking up the sun, enjoying their time spent together. Instead, he cheated on her, broke her heart (and his), and lost her. Now, he's left with the gaping Beca-shaped hole in his life. He hates himself.

His cell phone buzzes from inside the front pocket of his messenger bag. He sets the food on the bed next to the laptop and makes his way over to the bag to grab it. He sees that it's Donald calling. He answers after a moment of debating whether or not it is likely that he will get another lecture. Donald's probably heard from one of the girls by now that the reason why he and Beca are separated (he refuses to call it a breakup—he's going to win her back; he _has_ to) is because he cheated on her. He decides to accept the call, mentally and emotionally preparing himself for the lecture. "Hey, Donald."

"Hey, Jess. How you doing?" Donald asks him, and Jesse just sighs. How is he doing? He feels like shit, thank you very much. He says as much to Donald, who grunts back, "sheesh! I'm sorry I asked." Jesse sighs again. He feels like a douche bag now.

"I'm sorry. I'm just…I miss her. She won't return any of my calls or texts or emails or anything. I just…why won't she talk to me? I wanna explain. I_ need_ to explain. I…just…I know I can make her understand, and she will take me back. She _has _to!"

"Shit, Jesse. I know that this has been rough on you." Donald says, pausing for a moment. Just as Jesse is about to respond, Donald starts speaking again. "Honestly, though, can you blame her? She has every right to not want to see or talk to you, dude. You _cheated_ on her." Jesse sighs, pressing a hand to his forehead. Here it comes: the lecture. He has been waiting for it.

"Save the lecture, Donald. I've gotten it more times than I can count; most of them included rather interesting language from Chloe and the other girls. I just…I don't need to hear it again."

"I'm not gonna give you a lecture, dude." Donald pauses again, and Jesse hears him take a deep breath into the phone. "You fucked up—like majorly fucked up, and I think you know that. What I don't think you realize, though, is that she's done. She's not coming back, Jess. You keep contacting her, but she's not responding, because you hurt her too badly. She can't forgive you, dude. I texted a couple of times, letting her know that I'm sorry that things didn't work out between the two of you, but she hasn't really tried to call me and I haven't tried to call her. We both know that Daddy is getting me in the divorce, so Mommy and I are keeping our distance. I'm getting most of my info from Chloe; she keeps me in the loop." When Donald refers to him as daddy and Beca as mommy, Jesse wants to laugh, because he imagined since they met tiny people that share their DNA calling them those names, but he can't because he feels like his heart is giving out as hears everything else that Donald said in surround sound inside of his head. She doesn't want him back. No, he can't afford to think like that. He's gonna keep contacting her. He's gonna keep trying.

"Donald, I appreciate…fuck, I can't give up." He says into the phone after a few minutes. "I'm not going to give up on her. I love her too much."

"Can I…can I ask you _why_?" Donald asks, making Jesse sigh. He has so many reasons why, but none of them seem like good enough reasons for why he did what he did. Honestly, he has no idea why he did. It felt right in the moment, like he was finally being appreciated after so many months of being forgotten, but when he finally realized what he did, he hated himself for doing it. Those fleeting moments of feeling _whole_ again were squashed completely when he realized who it was with—what exactly he had just done. He closes his eyes, swallowing.

"I have no idea." He says after a few minutes of silence. "I have a million reasons for why I did it, Donald, but they're all piss-poor excuses that don't even begin to really explain why I did it, what I was thinking, and how much I hate myself for doing it. I fucked up, and I know it, and I just…it was a huge mistake, and I regret it. I just want to tell her that."

"I'm sorry, dude." Donald tells him quietly. "I wish that there was something I could do to help both of you, but I honestly have no idea how to fix this."

"The only way you can fix it is to get Beca to listen to me, to take me back."

"I can't do that. We both know it." Jesse groans, stabbing a piece of chicken angrily with his fork.

"Yeah, whatever."

"I gotta go. Margot is calling me to dinner, but I wanted to let you know that I'm flying into LA for a business trip for Wednesday through Friday, and I was planning on staying the weekend. I talked to Benji and Bumper, and they are both gonna fly out to so that we all can hang out for the weekend. Would you be for that?" Jesse chews on his bottom lip. Does he really want to deal with the pitying looks from Donald and Benji and the obnoxious, rude comments from Bumper? "We can get shitfaced on Saturday night so all three of us are hung over for our flights back home." That thought makes him smile.

"Yeah, I guess I'm willing to put up with your bullshit for a weekend." He says after a few moments.

"Cool. I'll see you this weekend, dude. Text me if your close to offing yourself or something. I'll try to talk you down."

* * *

A couple of days later, Jesse and his best friends from college are walking his shitty motel room to a bar he and Beca and their new LA friends had frequented over the last year. Jesse decides not to invite those so-called new LA friends along, because he isn't in the mood to do damage control when Bumper is likely to say something offensive about fucking their mothers or to punch someone who makes fun of Benji if he decides to do a close up magic trick that leads to him pulling a gerbil out of someone's nostril or to get Donald to stop rapping and beat boxing when he drinks too much. Plus, he knows that all of them are just gonna ask him where Beca is, and he doesn't need another reminder from their sort-of mutual friends (aka his work buddies and their girlfriends) that she isn't there, because he was a fucking asshole who cheated. He's laughing and smiling as Benji relays his last first date horror story to them as they walk, but his heart's not in it. He wishes that he was with Beca, holding her in his arms, kissing her, being with her. Hell, he wishes that she was there with them, laughing at the way that she insults Bumper without feeling any remorse (because, really, it's fun to do that). He's trying his best not to drag his feet; he's amazed that he's even moving at all right now, that he's keeping up with their pace as they walk towards the bar. Then again, they're following his pace, because he's the one that lives here and knows where the bar is. Well, he has no reason to be proud of himself now.

"Dude, you're so fucking _lucky_ that you two have broken up. You don't get it. Beca was a fucking _bitch_." Bumper says as they walk into the crowded building and immediately begin making their way towards the bar.

"Fuck you, asshole." Jesse spits back. When the bartender walks in front of them, he orders a whiskey sour and tells the guy to spit in Bumper's drink.

"Bumper," Benji begins, after he has ordered a beer. He has turned toward the older guy he's addressing, leveling him with a furrowed brow and slight glare. It's amusing to see Benji stand up for him, because he looks like a child yelling at an adult for playing with a toy the wrong way. "Jesse's is going through a real rough patch right now, and we need to be supportive. You're being a…a….a…total dick." He whispers the curse word, making Bumper laugh and roll his eyes at the curly-haired man.

"Shut it, Merlin." Bumper says. He focuses back on Jesse, ignoring the way that Benji starts talking about how Merlin is a wizard, not a magician, and it would be awesome if he could have the same powers as Merlin. Bumper just decides to start talking over Benji as he chatters. "Seriously, Swanson, you're dick turned into a bleeding vagina after you started dating that colossal dyke bitch who kept your 'nads on a necklace swinging around her neck, but you finally grew a new set when you fucked your hot neighbor. It's time to realize just how fucking awesome that is, how fucking awesome it is that your free of Queen Bitchington of Bitcheryville, and how fucking awesome it is that you can go swimming through the sea of hot chicks that are hoping to become singers, actresses, and dancers. All you have to say is 'I'm working on a movie,' and you will ten girls fawning all over you in about five minutes, trying to suck your dick, all in the hopes that you can get them a cameo role in the film. You don't tell 'em until afterwards that you're just the fag composer." Donald and Benji stare at Bumper in horror over pretty much everything that comes out of the douche bag's mouth. Jesse just shakes his head, not even looking at him and a humorless smile on his face, and takes a sip of his drink (read: drinks half of it in one gulp). "You're so much better off now."

"Bumper, do you ever listen to what the fuck comes out of your mouth? Gentleman, I think I just figured out why this dickhead is still single and a virgin at twenty-six—and it is not for religious reasons or because he hasn't met the right person. It's 'cause he's a fucking idiot-douche." Donald shakes his head, tagging a big sip of his beer. Bumper scoffs, punching the bespectacled man in the arm.

"I can't believe that I'm going to say this. Seriously, is there a doctor nearby, because I'm about to die from the shock of it, but I kind of agree with Bumper on the _very last_ thing he said." Benji says, making Donald and Jesse stare at him in shock and horror, whereas Bumper is grinning, obviously pleased with himself. "_Only that_, though. You're better off without Beca now. Before you punch me in the face, hear me out." Benji puts his hands up when he sees how Jesse tightened his hand into a fist over the fact that his _very best friend_ told him that he's better off now without the love of his life. Fuck that noise. "This last year has been really tough on both of you as you readjusted from the Barden Beca and Jesse to the more mature couple that is living together Beca and Jesse. You told me about how you've been fighting way more than usual over the last year, with Beca snapping at you for what appears to be no reason at all, but you suspected was because you got the better job than her right away. Then, you told me about how busy she got, how you hardly ever saw her, how your relationship suffered both…uh…in and out of the bedroom, ever since she got that job. You were miserable, and I think we both know that Beca was miserable, too. While having sex with someone else might not have been the best way to go about it, I think that it was your subconscious's way of telling you that you're not happy in the relationship anymore and that you needed to get out. I think that it is time for the both of you to move on."

Jesse stares at Benji, dumbfounded. What in the actual fuck? Benji—sweet, kind, caring, good Benji—is telling him that he's better off now without Beca in his life. That's fucking bullshit. Donald clears his throat, bringing Jesse's attention towards him. "Little Houdini does have a point, Jess." They all ignore the way that Benji then begins talking about how amazing Houdini was as an illusionist and how he aspires to be like Houdini, hopefully one day being able to replicate his ill-fated under the water act that resulted in the man's death—although, Benji hopes that it doesn't end the same way this time. Donald talks over Benji's tirade about Houdini. "You cheated, and she's done, so it's time for you to move on. She's trying to." Jesse glares at his three friends. Donald signals the bartender, ordering shots. He pushes two of them in front of Jesse, when the bartender finishes pouring them. He tells the man to keep them coming. He turns his attention on Jesse. "A few of these bad boys, and maybe a couple of Irish car bombs, will help you forget her." He raises a shot glass at him before downing it. Jesse follows suit, wincing slightly at the burn of the shot going down his throat.

* * *

About forty-five minutes later, four shots, two and a half whiskey sours, and one Irish car bomb, Jesse begins to realize that no matter how drunk he gets, he will not be able to forget Beca Mitchell; he loves her too much. Later, he knows that he will probably regret this, but he's drunk enough now to give him the excuse to actually do what he's thinking. None of them _get_ it; he and Beca will get back together—it's just a matter of time. She needed her cooling off period, and he needed the time away to really appreciate how much he loves her and needs her. The time has come, however, for them to put aside the bullshit and get back together. He told her five years ago that it was inevitable that they were going to marry and have kids and grow old together; he meant it. It _is_ inevitable that they were going to end up together, despite what Bumper, Donald, and Benji all seem to think; they just _can't_ see how this is all going to end: with him and Beca back together. He knows that they're gonna think he's nuts, but it makes all the sense in the world to him: if she isn't going to answer his calls or texts or emails, then he is just gonna show up at her (soon to be _theirs_ again!) place and _make_ her listen. He slaps two twenties onto the bar and stands up, stumbling slightly, because his legs feel like jelly.

"Dude! What are you doing?" Donald asks, but Jesse can barely understand him; either he is too drunk to understand what people are saying, or Donald is so drunk that his words are coming out in inaudible jumbles of letters. The only one who is mostly sober is Benji, who had stuck to one kind of alcohol and only had _two_ drinks, and his eyes widen when he suddenly realizes just what Jesse's about to do.

"Jesse, no! Don't."

Obviously, Jesse doesn't listen, and soon enough, he is stumbling out of the bar and down the street in the direction of the place he used to share with Beca. Even in all of his drunkenness, he knows where it is, like a missile following a homing device. "Beca! I'm coming, Beca!" He is shouting, unable to control himself; he needs to announce it to her—he _needs_ her to know that he's trying. Because he is. He is trying _so hard_ to keep it together, to get her back. He just needs her to hear him, see him, and he knows that he can fix them. He has to, or else his sanity will be lost forever. Fuck, he just misses her. Benji struggles to keep the three of them upright, stop them from walking into on-coming traffic (Jesse's risking life and limb to get to _his_ Beca, but he's drunk, so he doesn't even care), and trying to keep them quiet. (Jesse's screaming Beca's name; Bumper's screaming that Jesse's an asshole who is whipped beyond belief and a smattering of inappropriate names related to his lack of a penis and testicles, his newfound female genitals, and religious slurs about Jessie's Judaism; Donald's screaming about how much of an idiot Jesse is and how much of an asshole Bumper is, and that he hopes that Bumper gets jumped and either is killed or lands in jail, bleeding and in pain—poor Benji would quiet down one only to have the other two start screaming; he was exhausted and in need of a lot of assistance). "If I go there now, I just know that I can change her mind about us. I swear, I will turn it all around and fix this! It was a mistake, and she'll listen to me!" He tells Benji, who wraps an arm around his waist and tries to keep him upright when he tripped over a lip in the sidewalk and nearly face-planted.

"Jess, you're drunk. I can barely understand the words coming out of your mouth, because they're so slurred. This isn't going to work."

"No! It's gonna work, Benji! She's gonna listen to me, even if my words are slurred. I have to tell her the truth." With that, he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and hits two on his speed dial, pressing the phone to his ear. Benji attempts to grab the phone from his hands, but Jesse pulls away from him and starts running. It goes straight to voicemail, like always, but that is okay. He's gonna make her understand. "Beca! I love you so much! Please pick up the phone. _Please_! I'm coming to you, and I want to…I _need_ to make you understand. I'm so sorry, Beca. I love you. Please! Please pick up the phone." He hung up the phone and then called her back, still running, ignoring Benji's frantic calls and heavy breathing as he rushes after him, dragging Bumper and Donald by their arms. He keeps calling and leaving the same desperate message on her voicemail over and over, but she never picks up. She never responds. All he hears is the deafening sound of her silence, and it eats away at him, pushing him to get to the apartment faster.

Jesse stumbles his way to the apartment building where he used to live; he's pretty proud of himself, considering he made it there in about a half hour and only fell over onto the sidewalk and against parked cars or the walls of buildings a couple of times. Once she sees him, sees what a mess he is without her, hears him say how much he loves her, she will take him back. _She has to_. He is so sure that this is what is going to happen. He is so sure that she will understand, that she will take him back. There is no other alternative. She's gonna take him back. He slips inside and rushes towards the stairs, not even bothering with the ancient elevator that takes forever. He knows that Benji, Donald, and Bumper are following behind him, but they have quieted down now.

He stumbles down the hallway until he finds the old apartment door, and he proceeds to pound on it, jiggling the door knob as he does so. "Beca, please open up. I'm so sorry, baby. I love you. I miss you. Please let me come home." He keeps banging on the door, yelling against it, hoping like hell she will respond to him. Benji's tugging on his arm, telling him to stop.

"Jess, people _live _here; they're trying to _sleep_!" Benji's telling him. Jesse doesn't care, though. He doesn't care that Bumper and Donald have slid down the wall and are stretched out on the floor of the hallway, snoring and mumbling to themselves. He doesn't care that all of his former neighbors are hearing him plead with his ex-girlfriend, begging her to open the door, to let him in. He keeps telling her how much he misses her, how much he loves her, that he made a mistake. He tells her that he needs her to take him back.

"I love you, Beca!" The door across the hall opens, and he jerks his head to see Kelly standing in the door way, tying a robe around her waist. Her brow is furrowed, her hair is a mess from sleeping, and her eyes are drooping; she obviously just woke up because of his shouting and banging.

"Jesse? Is that you?" He stops banging on the door for a moment, turning fully to look at her. She smiles sadly at him and glances at his friends.

"Hi, Kelly." He says quietly, and his stomach feels sick. He knows that Beca is probably watching him from the other side of the door, waiting to see what he does. What would he want her to do? Spit at her? Curse at her? Punch her? Even in his drunken state, he wouldn't do any of that. He's still a moderately nice guy (although, at the moment, that is under debate).

"Shit. Is this the bitch you fucked?" Bumper mumbles from the floor. "Damn, Swanson. Who knew you had it in you? I don't get why you're so hung up on the Goth bitch when you could have Malibu Barbie." Benji kicks him in the thigh, making him yelp in pain and Donald to laugh and point at him, his glasses askew on his face.

Jesse ignores them and stares at Kelly. He is filled with an overwhelming amount of hate for the pretty blond girl, because she kissed him when he was drunk and feeling lonely. He was vulnerable when she invited him over that night, and she had taken advantage of that. Sure, he wasn't exactly a victim in all of this, but she had done her part. "I haven't seen you in awhile. I just…I wanted to say I'm sorry. I invited you over that night with the most honorable intentions, but I…I…um, I really liked you. I just…I shouldn't have kissed you, but I wanted to tell you that I don't regret it, because I had…_have_ feelings for you. I know that you're hurting over everything that happened with Beca, but maybe you and I could…you know, one day?"

He glares at her, shaking his head, his jaw tense. What in the fuck is wrong with her? He doesn't want her. He wants Beca. Even if Beca weren't to take him back (which is totally _not_ going to happen—she will take him back!), he wouldn't touch Kelly with a ten-foot pole now. He would forever associate her with his weakness, with the shame and guilt that he is wracked with over cheating on his best friend, his soul mate, the love of his life. "No." He says one word, and it is hardened with anger and betrayal and sadness and all of the other negative emotions that are swirling through his body. She swallows, running a hand through her hair, looking away from him as she blinks back the tears.

"Right, yeah…I understand." She struggles to get the words out without crying, and he knows that he should feel bad for how he is treating her in this moment, but he's using the excuse of being drunk for why he frankly doesn't give a shit. He turns his back on her, about to pound on the door again to get Beca to open it up. Kelly speaks, making him pause before his hand hit the wood. "She's not there. She hasn't been back since after I left for work yesterday morning. Her friend has been staying with her. She's tall with brown hair and big boobs." Jesse doesn't acknowledge what Kelly's saying, but he's listening. He already knew that Stacie had been staying with her since they finished up their trip to Hawaii via Facebook. "I haven't seen them since her friend cursed me out as I was leaving for work and they were walking into the apartment. I don't think they ever came back. Sorry." He hears the door click shut, the sound of a lock sliding into place, and he knows that Kelly is gone.

Jesse presses his forehead and hand against the door, his eyes clamped shut tightly. He takes a shuddering breath before he says into the wood, "Beca. Please open up." He was hoping like hell that Kelly was lying, but nothing comes through the door. It is eerily quiet on the other side of it, no fan, now sound of breathing, no shifting of the floorboards or anything. No one can sit completely quietly, without moving, for ten minutes. A tear slips down his cheek when he realizes that Kelly wasn't lying to him. No one is in the apartment. He just wishes that he knew where she is.

"Jess," Benji says, laying a hand on his shoulder, making him jump slightly. "Let's go, okay?"

"Where is she, Benji? Where is Beca?" He asks, rolling his head slightly to look at his friend. Benji frowns, shaking his head.

"I don't know. Let's get you back to your motel room, okay?"

* * *

The next day, Jesse wakes with the worst hangover known to man. He feels like he is dying, and his head feels like cotton. He contemplates perpetually getting drunk in order to feel the hangover, because he's focused more on the nausea and pain than he is on the heartache that comes from having no idea where Beca is, if she is okay, et cetera. He stumbles to the bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach. When he finally feels like he can stand again, he brushes his teeth, washes his face, and takes three aspirin from the bottle that he left on edge of the sink. He makes his way back into the room, grabbing a juice pouch from the box on the floor by his bed. He climbs into the bed and sets his laptop on his legs, letting it load, as he opens the juice pouch and takes a hearty drink of it, grimacing at the way the sweet flavor mixes with the mint of his toothpaste.

He logs into Facebook, just like his usual habit, and he sees that an hour before (at ten after ten in the morning), Stacie finally posted another status. She had apologized in the status about her disappearance over the last few days, but she said she wanted to be sure everything was a done deal before she made a very special announcement. Apparently, she had gotten a job and was moving to LA. She then proceeded to post an entire album of pictures of her and Beca and _their new apartment _that they were living in, _together_.

It is soul-crushing to look at those pictures. For the last five years, Jesse Swanson has been intoxicated with Beca Mitchell; she is alluring, beautiful, smart, funny, kind to those she cared about, unique, special, amazing, frightening. She leaves him breathless and confused and excited and feeling alive. She makes him so angry and happy at the same time. She pisses him off more than any other person he knew (well, with the exception of Bumper). As much as he loves her, he also hates her. They fight constantly; they have nothing really in common aside from their mutual love of music. They don't make any sense, but he is addicted to her. When Jesse looks at those pictures—pictures of an empty two-bedroom apartment, pictures of her and Stacie grinning as they stood next to all of her old furniture and some new pieces, along with a ton of boxes, pictures of them in the fully unpacked apartment, looking like they were at _home_ there, together—he feels like he is coming down from the worst high in the world. His hands are shaking, his stomach is cramping, his head is pounding, and his heart feels like it is about to give out. He finally realizes something in that moment. Beca is really trying to move on from him, just like Benji said she was. For the last three weeks, she has been doing everything she could to move on from him, ignoring his calls, his texts, his emails, going to Hawaii with her friends, letting Stacie live with her for a week, and now she has moved out of the apartment she shared with him for a year. She is obviously trying to escape the memories that that apartment has of the two of them, both happy and unhappy. He hates himself even more, because he was being selfish by trying to get her back. He has been so wrapped up inside of his own head and thinking about how much this _breakup_ has been for him, and he hasn't once thought about her and her feelings. She needs to move on from him, and he has been going out of his way making it worse for her. She isn't going to take him back—not now, and maybe not ever. He finally realizes that no matter how many times he calls her, texts her, emails her, or even attempts to go see her again, there is going to be no response, that there is going to be no one there waiting for him. She is done with him.

Jesse lets out a shuddering breath, clamping his eyes shut. Just a few days ago, he was contemplating giving up, quitting, and even killing himself over not being able to have Beca in his life. Now, he's finally realizing is it quitting to move on from their relationship? Is it really going to kill him to be without her, or was Benji right when he said that they weren't happy or good together for a long time, and that maybe he would actually be better off without her. Giving her up…maybe it isn't exactly giving her up, but just accepting that their time together is over. She deserves to be happy, and she isn't with him. Hell, even though he is such a fucking asshole for cheating on her, he deserves to be happy, too. He hasn't been happy in a long time, and even though it is going to be hard without her, he feels like if he were to let go, to let _her_ go, that maybe he could find that happiness again. If he let her go, then _she _could find happiness again. He's glad that she has Stacie there. She needs to have someone to help her recover from their breakup, to help her move on. He might not have anyone in LA, but he has his family—his older sister, especially—and Benji and Donald to call whenever he needs to talk. Beca holds everything in, so if she didn't have Stacie there—actually living with her and seeing her—she would hold it all in and get so caught up in the negative emotions that she would shut down way worse than she had following her parents' divorce.

Jesse sighs, wiping at the tears that slipped down his cheeks. He exits it out of the photos and scrolls to the top of Stacie's page. He settles his cursor over the checked friends box, hesitating a moment before clicking on it. He shifts the cursor down until he highlights the 'unfriend' option. He takes another breath and then clicks on it, officially ending his connection to Beca via Stacie. He exits out of Facebook and goes to his email. He is going to send her one final email, but instead of begging her to take him back, this one is going to be about saying goodbye. He wipes at his cheeks again, before he begins to type.

_To: Beca Mitchell  
_

_From: Jesse Swanson  
_

_Subject: Goodbye_

_My dearest Beca,_

_I want to begin this email by saying that I'm sorry. Only, this time, I'm not saying I'm sorry for the mistake I made and the pain I caused you. Instead, this time, I'm saying I'm sorry for harassing you these last three weeks. I realize now that you don't want to be with me anymore, and even though it is killing me to do type this, I can understand it. Even taking the cheating out of this, I can finally accept, after these last three weeks apart, that neither one of us were happy. _

_Our problems didn't begin at the time that you got your promotion. No, that was just the turning point that helped us both to see just how much we weren't working together anymore. Our problems began well before that. Actually, our problems started in the very beginning—five years ago to be exact. You and I were a mess from the start, and I don't regret a single moment of it. All the fights, all the love that we shared, it made me a better person because of it. The only thing that I regret from our relationship is the mistake that I made at the end of it, which tainted us and our relationship forever. I hate myself for hurting you that way, because now, when we look back on us, it won't be with happiness; it will be with pain, hurt, betrayal, anger, and the list goes on. I wish that I didn't lash out in that way. I wish that I could have held it together for one more week, and then maybe you and I could have talked about it—fixed us. Maybe we could have finally had a conversation that we needed to have—about all of the things that were going on between us, and maybe we could have worked together to make it work. We were both so exhausted at the end, and I made that huge mistake, and now there is no more hope for us._

_I feel like I'm talking in circles. Essentially, what I'm trying to say in this email is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for cheating on you. I'm sorry for breaking us in the way that I had. I'm sorry for putting so much pressure on you over these last few weeks. I'm sorry for not realizing long ago just how much pain you and I both were experiencing as we attempted to stay together and to navigate this new stage of our relationship following our graduation from Barden. Most of all, I'm sorry for not talking to you, especially when we became so distant after you got your promotion, and telling you what I was think and feeling._

_I want you to know that I'm so proud of you and everything you have accomplished. You are an amazing person, and you're so talented. You deserve to have all of your dreams come true, and I know that they will. You will work so hard, and you will succeed. I'm looking forward to opening a ton of CD jackets and finding your name there. I am looking forward to turning on my radio and hearing 'Beca Mitchell featuring [insert artist's name here]' just before a song starts playing. I'm looking forward to knowing that you're happy._

_Before I end this email, I'm going to finish it off by telling you just what I should have told you when I started to noticed that there was that massive canyon between us. For five years, I was the one who supported your dreams, your music, ahead of everyone else. I was the one who mattered the most to you. I was the one who you went to for comfort and support and praise. I was the one you loved. Then, we got to LA, and we tried living together and starting the next chapter of our lives together. It was hard, because being in school and supporting each other was one thing, but having to be adults—to work, to pay the bills, to be a grown up couple who is living together—on top of supporting one another was hard. You were insecure over Kelly and her obvious interest in me, and even though I wasn't lying to you when I said that I loved you and only wanted you, I wasn't honest with you or myself. I was attracted to her, and I should have put the distance between her and me at the first sign of her interest in me. I didn't, and I'm sorry. I knew you were insecure and kind of resentful that I got my dream job (albeit not _fully_) while you were working two part-time jobs, and making mixes at night to send out to record labels. I wanted you to be proud of me, and I know you were, but you were also angry about it. I should have known that there was a problem right then and there when I liked that. I _liked_ that you were pissed off at me; I _liked_ that you were jealous of me. I _liked_ that I was the most talented one, the one on top. Then, you got your big break, and suddenly, you didn't need me anymore. You didn't need me to be your supporter. You didn't need me to be the one who constantly fluffed your ego about your mixes. You didn't need me; your success had nothing to do with me anymore. I became resentful of your job, your coworkers, your dreams, because it was taking you away from me. You weren't dependent upon me anymore. You were standing on your own. I hate myself for admitting that, but it is the truth. You're so amazing and special and fantastic, and I just wish that you and I weren't constantly competing with one another over everything, including our careers. We should have known from the beginning that the healthy competition (with the Bella-Treble rivalry and beyond it) would turn into a mess._

_When we stopped having sex, I snapped. I sucked it up at first. I understood that you were busy, but when one week turned into about nine weeks without us making love to one another? I broke; sex was always a huge part of our relationship—our way of expressing to one another just how much we loved each other, how important we were to the other person. Now, the sex was gone, and you were hardly around. I needed to feel whole again, and then Kelly invited me over for dinner, and I got drunk. I got drunk, and she kissed me, and for a few moments, I felt whole again. I felt loved. I felt important. I felt needed. I let myself get caught up, and I made a mistake that I will have a hard time forgiving myself for making. The entire time, I wished it was you, and when it was over, I felt sick. I broke the last of our brittle relationship. I regret it so much, and I wish that there was a way that I could go back, but I can't._

_Shit, this is a crazy long email, and I'm sure it doesn't make any sense. I just needed you to finally hear me, to finally understand what was happening in my head and in my heart when I made that mistake. I also need you to know that I finally hear what you have been screaming at me (via not saying a word at all) for the last few weeks apart. I'm letting you go. It's going to be one of the hardest things that I will have to do, but we both need it. We both need a clean slate and a fresh start. I wish you all the luck, happiness, good health, and love in the world. Goodbye._

_I love you (and I will _never_ stop loving you),_

_Jesse_

* * *

Jesse wanted her to respond. He hoped like hell that she would. In the end, though, he wasn't surprised when he never heard from her again. He never asked his friends about what was going on in her life, not for a very long time. Ten years later, he was happy to hear from one of his old Treble friends was dating Stacie, and he learned from her that Beca had fallen in love with someone, gotten married, and had a son named Matt, but everyone called him Junior. She was wildly successful in her career. He was happy for her. He knew that his old Treble friend had casually let it slip to Stacie that Jesse, too, was happy. That he had met a girl named Hannah a year after he and Beca had broken up, and they too had gotten married. He and Hannah had two kids (Sarah and Leah), and they were expecting their third, this time a boy to be named Joshua. He had won a couple of awards for his compositions in movies. He was happy, and he could only hope that she was happy for him.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, please review! Let me know what you all think!**


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